


The Realm of Possibility

by coffeecatsme



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Angst, Angst and Fluff, Angst with a Happy Ending, Endgame Fix-It, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Irondad, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Tony Stark is a Good Dad, alternate universe - alternate snap, guYS SO MUCH ANGST, just be prepared y'all, spiderson, tony stark is peter's father figure, tony stark is the hero we all need
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:21:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 23,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25249102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coffeecatsme/pseuds/coffeecatsme
Summary: When Tony snaps, along with destroying Thanos’s army, he wishes that Morgan and Peter still have a good life and future in his absence, not imagining for a second that he will live to see it. What he expects less, however, is to find himself in a reality in which everything seems different. Most Avengers disappeared with Thanos's initial snap with no indication of a time heist ever happening, half of the universe is still dusted up, and...Oh, yeah. He and Pepper are apparently among those that got snapped away five years ago, leaving a very much alive Morgan behind, in the care of the only person left in her life: Peter Parker.
Relationships: Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe) & Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe), Peter Parker & Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe) & Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 42
Kudos: 301





	1. The Only Way

**Author's Note:**

> so, obviously, i'm impulsive. we all knew this. in my defense, i was toying with a fic idea like this for, like, months and managed to stop myself from writing it immediately. but the damn thing festered and developed in my head so quickly that i couldn't NOT write it. 
> 
> so anyway. as much as in this house we refuse to accept that endgame is canon - to be completely honest half the time i forget tony's dead because, excuse me who said that ever happened? - i present to you my idea for a fix-it, mildly inspired by Doctor Strange and the idea of multiverse. 
> 
> also, prepare your tissues, because goddammit this made me cry as i was writing it. hopefully i made this scene justice, even though, AGAIN - it never really happened. 
> 
> TL;DR: here's an endgame fix-it, prepare for angst
> 
> WARNING: language because peter's an adult in this so i reserve my right to curse (at least as long as morgan's not there)
> 
> Note: title inspired by David Levithan's book by the same name. if you haven't read it, go do it, because that was one of the best books of my teenage years and i still remember it fondly.

Tony knew.

When he looked over at Doctor Strange and saw him lift a finger, he knew.

Strange didn’t let him die on Titan, even sacrificing the time stone to save Tony. Getting Thanos’s promise that Tony survived, specifically. The man who claimed he would sacrifice anything to make sure the damn infinity stone was safe, sacrificed it without a second thought.

This was why. In the one future Strange said that they won, they must’ve needed Tony. They needed him to stop Thanos…

Tony’s eyes turned to the villain. He had all six stones, and if he snapped, it was all over. There wouldn’t even be heroes left in the universe to save it. And even if, by some miracle, they took back the stones from him, as long as Thanos was out there, the universe would be at risk. The only way to ensure everyone survived was to erase him out of existence.

Just as he’d done with half the universe five years ago.

And if Strange was to be believed, it was Tony that needed to do it. His eyes fell on the infinity gauntlet and the stones shining in all different colors. He knew.

_This is the only way._

He lunged at Thanos, grabbing the infinity gauntlet with both hands. He didn’t need to take the thing off—he just needed the stones. So while Thanos was distracted with fighting back, the nanobots in his suit crawled over the gauntlet, grabbing the stones one by one. Time. Space. Power. Mind. Reality. Soul. He saw the last one in the firm grasp of the nanobots, and then looked up at the face of the Titan.

He was thrown back merely seconds later. His heart was pounding with adrenaline, his chest was heaving with short breaths, and every part of his body was aching due to the battle, and yet he had a newfound strength. He glanced at his suit, his glove, and saw the nanobots crawling over, slowly pulling the stones to their appropriate places.

He looked up to see a smirk on Thanos’s face. “I am…inevitable,” the Titan said, not even checking whether he still possessed the stones. He brought his fingers for a snap.

Nothing happened. Tony would’ve laughed if he wasn’t in such a precarious position, possibly seconds away from dying, feeling the infinite strength of the stones coursing through him. The stones were never meant to be handled at once, especially not by a human. His suit was struggling to take it all, his arc reactor bearing the weight of the ultimate power in the entire universe. He pushed himself up to his knees and faced Thanos, clearing his head from any thought other than decimating him and his army. He saw the fear splash on the Titan’s face—the first time he saw Thanos afraid, probably. He tried to smile through the pain.

“And I… am… Iron Man.” His voice came out in short breaths, but his conviction was beyond questionable. Five years ago, he gave Iron Man up to focus on his family and his daughter, to give them the life they deserved in a messed-up world. Now he took up the mantle again, to do exactly that—to make sure Morgan had a world to come back to when everything ended. Deep down, at the heart, he was and would always be Iron Man, ready to lay down his life to save the ones he loved the most.

He didn’t know just how much longer he could handle the stones. He couldn’t wait any longer. He brought his fingers together, locked eyes with Thanos, and without an ounce of hesitation he snapped.

It was like a bomb was detonated in his body. Pain unlike anything he felt coursed through his body, forcing him down on the ground. His eyes were filled tears and inside, he was screaming in agony, but no voice came out. His body had used its final strength to use the stones, and now it was wasted.

He blinked and rested his body against a rubble, trying to gauge what was going on around him. His ears were ringing and he could barely hear anything, but the sounds of the battle had ceased. The scene was a picture of absolute silence and lack of movement as every single one of the heroes standing looked around, trying to figure out what was going on.

They weren’t fighting. They were alive. They had _won._ Tony felt the last piece of fight left in his body fading.

He heard a thump right in front of him. His eyes were unfocused but he would recognize Rhodey’s red and blue suit anywhere. Rhodey, his best friend, his partner. He wanted to say goodbye, to say just how honored he’d been to know Rhodey, but his lips weren’t moving. He just hoped his best friend knew what he couldn’t voice. So weak. His body was so weak.

Rhodey cupped his cheek with one hand, the cold metal burning Tony’s iron hot skin. He didn’t miss the tears that filled his friend’s eyes, even though he tried to smile. Tony tried to smile back, but he didn’t have the strength.

“Mr. Stark?” A voice cut through the moment. A small voice, the voice of a kid. Tony’s eyes looked behind Rhodey to see a figure come closer, bloody and bruised, with messy hair and dirt all over his face. _Peter._ Tony’s heart ached.

Peter had suffered too many losses in his short life. And now he was adding one more to the list, just after he got the kid back. _I’m sorry, Pete,_ he thought. _There was no other way._

Peter knelt in front of him, voice shaky, eyes already glassy with tears. “Hey, Mr. Stark?” Another kind of pain shot through Tony’s veins when Peter reached for his hand over his chest, as if he could keep Tony in this world if he just held tightly enough. “Can you hear me? It’s Peter.”

_I know, kid._ How could he forget?

Peter was breathing so heavily that a part of Tony wanted to reach forward and wrap him in his arms, tell him it would be okay, but if he didn’t have the strength to even smile, he couldn’t move his arms at all. He hoped his eyes could tell Peter just how much he loved him, and how sorry he was that it turned out this way.

“Hey. We won, Mr. Stark,” Peter continued, his hands still clasping at Tony’s hand. “We won, Mr. Stark.” His face crumbled, on the verge of tears, each word another stab at Tony’s heart. “We won… You did it, sir, you did it.” A small sob escaped Peter’s lip, and then another figure appeared behind him, holding his shoulders. Tony, despite the black dots in his vision, recognized the blue and silver armor immediately. Pepper _._

_Please stay with Peter, Pep,_ he thought, hoping he could convey his words to Pepper through his eyes. _Pepper and Morgan. My children. Take care of them for me._

“I’m sorry, Tony,” Peter sobbed, still not willing to let go of Tony’s hand until Pepper pulled him up. Tony wanted to laugh. _So it took me dying for you to call me by my first name?_

Then Peter was pulled away, even though Tony wanted to hold onto his boy, and Pepper was in front of him. She was so beautiful still, even though she was battle ridden. Her strawberry blonde hair cascaded down her shoulders like a waterfall, and her tears brightened her blue eyes. Her face was half in shadows, only illuminated by a nearby fire, and yet in Tony’s eyes she was as bright as a star. If her face was the last thing Tony would see in this world, he was okay with it.

Pepper clasped his shoulder, only a small word leaving her mouth. “Hey.” _Hey, Pep,_ Tony thought, his lips barely moving. _I love you. I’m sorry. I had no other choice._ The words were left unsaid. Instead, Pepper put a hand over his arc reactor. With the last of his strength, Tony held her hand, feeling the coldness of her suit under his fingers. He wanted to ask her to remove the suit, but nothing left his lips.

“FRIDAY?” Pepper asked, her voice somehow strong. But of course, this was Pepper, one of the strongest women Tony knew. Even now, when she must be going through the worst heartbreak of all, she was keeping her shoulders straight.

_“Life functions critical,”_ FRIDAY informed Pepper in her usual, stoic voice. _Huh,_ Tony thought sarcastically. _I wouldn’t have guessed._ He tilted his head so that he could face Pepper completely. The pain in his body had started to recede, but Tony knew that had nothing to do with healing. He was close to death. But at least it meant the pain didn’t paralyze him, and he could offer Pepper a smile.

_I love you,_ he thought again, trying to move his lips to form the words. _Please take care of Morgan and Peter. I want them to be okay. I need them to be okay. Please, Pep._ Yet he couldn’t hear his voice, and that probably meant he wasn’t speaking.

“Tony.” Pepper’s voice cut through his thoughts. “Look at me.”

He didn’t even realize he turned away in an effort to move his damn lips and talk. He forced himself to tilt his head again so he was facing Pepper.

“We’re gonna be okay,” she said, her voice steady. As if she read Tony’s mind, and the words he couldn’t voice. Tony felt his shoulders relax. Of course. With Pepper by their side, Peter and Morgan would be okay. She would make sure of that. He had nothing to worry.

Pepper smiled through her tears and caressed his shoulder. Her voice cracked at the next words; holding back her tears and pain must’ve taken all the strength out of her. “You can rest now,” she whispered, her voice feeling more and more distant by the second.

_Thank you, Pep,_ Tony thought, hoping that she knew just how grateful he was for her. She’d made his life infinitely better and gave him the happy family he always wanted. She loved him through thick and thin. And now, she would take care of his two children, raising them to be strong and successful adults. He had nothing to worry about.

His head tilted again, his gaze falling on the infinity stones shining on the glove of his suit. For some reason, his fingers were itching; he rubbed them together, briefly wondering what it would be like to touch an infinity stone. Not that he would ever get the chance. Besides, knowing how deathly using them was, he didn’t know if he wanted to find out.

He stared at the stones, asking for one last thing from the universe. _Let my children be okay. Let Morgan and Peter be okay._ His vision was turning black, and he knew death was about to claim him. He let it happen, let himself be consumed by death. His soul was calm and happy. He’d fulfilled his purpose. He left his children a better universe to live in than the one he had. He saved them.

He couldn’t think of a better way to go.

* * *

Tony woke up on a cold floor.

He blinked, the light blinding his vision for a couple of moments. He thought he was staring at the sun, but no—he was inside, looking up at the light in a bright, spacious room.

Frowning he sat up. It was weird that he didn’t feel any pain in his muscles. For some reason, he thought he would be aching all over. Wait, why would he be aching?

The memories of the battle filled his mind. Thanos, the infinity stones, his snap… _Oh,_ he thought. _That’s why._ But his body felt healthier than ever, and glancing at his right arm, he noticed that it was intact with no scarring at all, no indication that he ever snapped with the stones.

_That’s interesting,_ he thought as he pushed himself up to his feet. Did his snap somehow put him here? Was he in the future, where he completely healed and ready to go back out into the world? But…how? He was pretty sure he died. No, he was _positive._ There was no way his frail, human body would survive a snap like that. And yet…

And yet he was here, feeling more alive than ever.

Well, he could figure what was going on later. First, he needed to figure out where he was because he didn’t recognize this apartment at all. He was in a large living room decorated with a red couch and two red armchairs, a glass coffee table resting atop a blue, fluffy carpet, a large flat-screen TV, and shelves covering an entire wall, filled with all kinds of books, pictures, and even stuffed animals and decorations. He was positive he never stepped foot inside this place.

He moved to the bookshelves, hoping the pictures could give him some clue. His eyes immediately went to one in which he recognized Morgan—his little girl looked about a year or two older than he remembered, but that was definitely her. A small smile pulled his lips. Morgan looked happy in the picture, a cone of ice cream in her hand, her hair tied in pigtails. Tony noticed that there was a red streak in her hair, a color that reminded him of Nat’s hair, and he realized he didn’t mind it. As long as Morgan liked it.

Next to Morgan was… Tony’s breath hitched in his throat as he grabbed the picture and pulled it closer, to make sure his eyes weren’t deceiving him. “Pete?” he whispered, his thumb caressing the boy’s picture.

Yeah, that was Peter. There was no mistaking the bright brown eyes and messy brown hair, but Peter looked much older than a high schooler. His boyish face turned more mature with harder lines, his hair was more put-together, and his shoulders seemed broader. He had one arm around Morgan’s shoulders and he was smiling at the camera wildly.

Peter looked in his early twenties in this picture, a far cry from the young high schooler Tony remembered. He’d matured nicely, sure, but it made no sense for Peter to be _this_ old and Morgan to be only a year or two older than Tony remembered. If it had been five years since he snapped, Morgan would’ve been ten, not six or seven.

Okay, there was something _seriously_ wrong with…whatever this place was. Hoping to get more information, Tony moved onto the next photo. It was of Peter and Morgan again, but at least a few years earlier. Morgan looked exactly like how she looked as a three-year-old, and she was resting in Peter’s arms as he stood…

Tony immediately recognized the familiar building. Peter was at MIT, wearing the university’s sweatshirt, a large grin on his face. Despite the weirdness of the situation, a small smile pulled Tony’s lips. Because of course his boy got into MIT. He had no doubt in his mind.

Having a three-year-old Morgan there made no sense to Tony, but he would figure that out later.

His eyes skimmed the rest of the photos. He noticed a few included May and Ben—though he couldn’t help noticing that there wasn’t any recent photo of May. Shouldn’t she have come back after Bruce’s snap?

Sprinkled among them was… Tony grabbed a familiar photo, the one he and Peter took with Peter’s internship certificate. He remembered that day fondly, and how they messed up almost half of the pictures before they decided to just roll with it. The rabbit ears were an endearing addition, one that always squeezed Tony’s heart before Peter came back. God, he’d missed the boy during those five hellish years after Thanos.

He gingerly put the photo back in its place and moved onto the next one. After only a brief look, he froze.

_That’s impossible._

The picture was from Morgan’s birth, which wasn’t too weird. He remembered taking this exact photo, with him next to the hospital bed Pepper was lying in, an arm around his wife’s shoulders, Pepper holding their little Morgan. Except in this photo _Peter_ was there with them. He looked about sixteen or seventeen, and he was grinning widely, standing on the other side of the bed. It implied that Peter was alive when Morgan was born.

So Peter survived the snap? It would explain why Peter was older in the more recent photos. But what about the absence of everyone else from those recent photos? There was no May, no Tony, no Pepper, none of the Avengers…literally, no one. Anything from the last five years only had Peter and Morgan.

What the _hell_ was going on here?

Tony was so distracted by trying to process the world-shattering reality that he didn’t hear the footsteps behind him. But he certainly felt a repulsor charging, and he turned around, the photo still clasped tightly in his hand. His breath got stuck in his throat when he saw who interrupted him, not only because it was a familiar face, but also the person had a repulsor directed at his heart. And Tony had never seen the boy look at him with such _hate_ on his face.

“Pete?” he whispered, trying to step forward. He stopped when the repulsor flashed red.

“You have ten seconds to get the _fuck_ out of my house,” Peter growled, his voice devoid of any compassion. “Or I’ll shoot.”


	2. Wait

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, ever since i got my iPad, i downloaded Procreate and have been working on my drawing skills. when i started writing this fic, i just wanted to try my chance at drawing a little fan art of Morgan for it. so i hope you like the drawing, and the chapter!

* * *

For a moment, Tony’s mind blanked. After learning the fact that for some godforsaken reason, in this _version_ of the universe, Peter was a grown ass adult, Morgan was older than she was supposed to be, and he apparently wasn’t a part of the last five years of Peter’s life, the last thing he expected—the last thing he could _deal with_ —was being threatened by someone he considered family.

The repulsor flashed again as Peter straightened up. “Five seconds,” he warned, his voice devoid of any kind of compassion. Tony’s eyes flickered to the Iron Man gauntlet covering Peter’s hand and, in the back of his mind, remembered that it was probably one of his watches. He had a couple lying around when he met Peter, but he never really gave them to Peter so he had no idea how the kid got ahold of one.

His gaze went back to Peter’s face and realized quickly that despite his cold voice and strong demeanor, Peter wasn’t as composed as he wanted to look like. His lips were quivering, his eyes had large purple bags underneath them, and his hand with the gauntlet was trembling. As much as he seemed like he would shoot Tony if he had the chance, he wasn’t okay with it.

Trying to gauge how to react, Tony realized too late that his ten seconds were up. The repulsor was charging, ready to shoot in a moment—

“Wait, Pete,” he quickly said, lifting his hands. “Just…wait a goddamn second.”

“Yeah, as if I’d listen the words of a _shapeshifter_ ,” Peter spat out, stepping forward. However, the repulsor wasn’t charging anymore. “I don’t know what you want with me, or why you’re here, but you chose the wrong face to wear. Tony’s _gone.”_ His voice shook at the last word.

_Shapeshifter?_ Tony thought. What the hell was Peter talking about?

“Kid, it’s me,” he muttered, trying to look as open and welcoming as possible. Despite his thundering heart, it wasn’t hard to give Peter a fatherly look. “Don’t you recognize your old mentor?” Peter didn’t even budge at the joke, his eyes even colder now.

“You think I’m weak enough to believe that? That I’d be crying at your feet because I just missed Tony so much?”

_Well, I mean, maybe not crying, but…_

“You don’t even deserve to wear his face. He was a hero. He died protecting this universe from people like you.” Peter stopped for a second and laughed. Even the laugh was so painful that Tony cringed. “Why am I even talking to you?” He charged the repulsors again, ready to shoot. “You overstayed your welcome. Leave now if you don’t want to be a red splatter on my wall.”

Tony was half tempted to bust out his suit and smack some sense into Peter, but it was obvious that attacking wasn’t the right call now. Peter already thought he was a bad guy, and for some reason, that he was dead. (Was this the result of his snap? If yes, then how the _hell_ did his wishes led to…this mess?) He just needed to convince Peter that it was really him.

“Kid, remember when I recruited you to fight with me in Germany?” he blurted out, hoping that Peter just didn’t blast him for talking. The kid froze, a hint of shock in his otherwise impassive mask. “You were barely fifteen, and yet you got offended because I called you a Spiderling. _Spider-Man,_ you insisted. Remember that?”

Peter’s lips were quivering and he was searching Tony’s face with another light now. Well, that was a start.

“It was just supposed to be for that one fight. I didn’t plan on sticking around. I thought it wasn’t in me to train a newbie superhero. But you kept calling, and calling, and calling, and wouldn’t stop no matter what I said. You would lay your life down if it meant protecting the world. And, well, I thought if you were so willing to go out there and risk your life, you might as well do it at my supervision. At least then, I could save you if things went south. After the Toomes incident, I would’ve never forgiven myself if…” His voice trailed off, his mind flashing back to five years ago, when Peter died in his arms. It took him a long time to heal from that, and even now, he wanted to scream whenever that moment came to mind.

Tony risked a step forward, hoping to reach and touch Peter, to convince him that he was very much here, and he was the real Tony Stark. He offered a small smile. “You made me happier than you could ever know, kid. Sure, most of the time you drove me mad and worried me to no end with your heroic tendencies, but watching you grow in my lab and as a superhero, I felt proud. Finally, I brought some good to the world. I gave it a bright light instead of taking it away.” Another step forward. Peter was almost within reach. Well, his gloved hand was, as the repulsor was still pointed at Tony’s heart, but at least it wasn’t charged anymore. Peter looked absolutely stunned—Tony doubted he even blinked. He was just staring at the man, disbelief and hope churning in his eyes.

“Kid, you’re smart. Do you think if I was a shapeshifter, I would know all of that? Do you think I’d be able to feel all of that?” Tony didn’t know what answer he expected, but there was only silence. His eyes flickered to the glove. He knew how to turn off the damn thing, and maybe that would finally convince Peter that he really was Tony. He was just about to reach for the glove when a small voice distracted him. A small and very familiar voice, coming from behind Peter, from a small figure standing by a dark room with an Iron Man plush pressed to her chest.

“Daddy?”

* * *

For the last five years, Peter had been sure of three things. One, that he had to take care of little Morgan, who lost her entire family and friends before the age of one and had no one in the world but him. Two, that he inherited half of Tony Stark’s estates, including Stark Industries, giving him enough money and with it the responsibility to take care of the mess Thanos left after his snap. Three, with one fell swoop, he lost everyone in his life—May, Ned, MJ, Pepper, almost all of the Avengers… The list went on.

And that list _definitely_ included Tony Stark.

He found it painfully ironic at first, that he lost _three_ father figures before he even turned eighteen. But neither Ben nor his own father’s deaths hit him as much as Tony’s did. Nothing against either man, as they both loved him so much and gave him all the care in the world, but when Tony died, he took the entire world with him. _Half of the universe,_ as Thanos promised; for some reason, that half was skewered very much against Peter.

It wasn’t as if, after Thanos, he didn’t imagine Tony coming back. At first, he couldn’t even sleep without having a nightmare about the man’s absence. In time it got better, not because the pain subsided, but Peter learned to live with it. Besides, he was too busy with Morgan, college, and Stark Industries anyway. It would’ve been a dream come true to have Tony back, but after five years, he was close to giving up on that possibility.

Never once did he imagine that the man would turn up in his living room out of the blue. At first, he was so _sure_ Tony had to be some shapeshifter evil guy coming to get Peter—being the owner of Stark Industries, he kind of inherited Tony’s enemies as well. For some reason, seeing a villain wearing Tony’s face flipped a switch inside of him—he wanted to _kill_ the guy. How dare he wear the face of someone who sacrificed so much for this world, and who died protecting it? _No one_ could live up to Tony, definitely not a villain, and no one deserved to even try to imitate him. When he wore Tony’s gauntlet watch and stepped into the living room, he was prepared to shoot the guy dead.

That was before he heard the “fake” Tony talk. Part of it was because he hadn’t heard the man’s voice in real life for five years, and the fresh pain that flared up his chest took him off guard. Part of it was because of Tony’s words—he sounded _so much_ like the Tony Stark Peter knew. The jokes, the demeanor, the smile, the facial expressions, the gestures… It was like seeing a ghost.

A ghost that apparently knew everything about him and Tony. And Peter was pretty sure no one but Tony could recount their relationship so perfectly. _It’s impossible,_ Peter had thought. Tony Stark was dead, as painful as it was, and he wasn’t coming back. It was impossible that the man in his living room was the real Tony, and yet…

He was frozen, watching Tony talk, trying to make sense of the situation, when a small voice made him snap out of his stupor. “Daddy?”

He only then remembered that in his rush to face “”fake”” Tony, he forgot to lock Morgan’s door. And now there she was, his little girl, in the same room as a potential attacker.

Peter’s mind immediately switched into the protective mode and he stepped in front of Morgan to shield him from Tony. His hands weren’t even shaking now, determined to protect his girl. “Morgan, go back into your room,” he said, voice steady, eyes locked on Tony. Any sign of an attack, and he would shoot. He watched as Tony knelt down, hands open, as if to show that he didn’t mean any harm.

“But Petey,” Morgan whispered, and Peter could feel her step closer. He moved himself to shield her again. “It’s daddy. Daddy’s back.”

“That’s not your dad, Morgan.”

“But…he looks like my dad.” Morgan moved again, and by the way Tony’s eyes locked on something behind Peter, he knew that the man must’ve caught Morgan’s eyes. Before Peter could reposition himself, Tony opened his arms, as if inviting Morgan in for a hug.

Oh, _hell_ no.

“Morgan, it’s me,” Tony whispered, a genuine, affectionate smile on his face.

“Morgan, don’t listen to him—”

“I’m not going to hurt you.” Tony’s eyes flickered to Peter for a second. They were stern, yes, but open. Vulnerable. “Pete, please. Morgan doesn’t need to see this,” he pleaded, hands up, palms open. “Just put the gauntlet down. I’m not going to hurt either of you. I promise.”

Peter never thought he’d see _the_ Tony Stark on his knees, begging. He hesitated for a second, a million thoughts passing through his head, and that distraction was enough. His enhanced senses caught the sound of Morgan’s Iron Man plush hitting the floor, and then a small figure rushed next to him. Snapping out of it, he tried to reach for Morgan, but it was too late.

“Morgan, no!” Fear took over Peter’s heart as he pointed the gauntlet to Tony, fully prepared to shoot if it seemed like the imposter would hurt Morgan. What he wasn’t prepared to see was Tony embracing Morgan tightly and positioning his body so that his back was to Peter, and Morgan was completely shielded from Peter’s gauntlet. He was whispering in Morgan’s ear.

“Look at you, all grown up. Soon enough, you’ll be as tall as me. And that hair—I like the bright red. Just like a certain hero I know.”

“Yeah, I did it for Petey!” Morgan beamed with a huge smile. “His suit’s red and blue. And we’ll get a blue streak soon to match up.”

“Oh, I like that idea. You know, Spidey’s my favorite hero in the whole world.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Always so protective and virtuous. He’ll race old man Cap on that.” Tony tilted his face toward Peter then, and Peter could see the genuine happiness in the man’s eyes. His arms around Morgan tightened and his pleading gaze found Peter’s. “Peter, please. It’s just me.”

Slowly, very slowly, Peter lowered the gauntlet. _It’s impossible! Don’t believe it! He’s an imposter, and you’ll only get hurt if you believe him,_ his mind was still yelling at him, but deep down in his heart, Peter knew the truth. He saw it in Tony’s words. He saw it in Tony’s gestures. And he saw it in the way he embraced Morgan and instinctively turned to protect him, exposing his vulnerable back to Peter’s weapon to make sure his kid was safe. It was such a parental thing to do that Peter didn’t think any imposter would be capable for it.

By some miracle, Tony was back. After five hellish years, five years of tears and pain and sweat, five years of trying to fix a broken world all alone while taking care of a little child… Tony Stark was back. His father figure, mentor, _family_ was back. Peter could barely process the news, let alone feel happy, or relieved, or whatever one would feel if their father came back to life out of the blue five years after their death. He just stared at Tony, frozen, tears silently filling his eyes. He was tempted to pinch himself to make sure he wasn’t sleeping, but everything was too hyper real for this to be a dream.

Tony was back. _Tony was back._ It was…unreal.

Peter gulped to get rid of the knot in his throat, but it was useless. He reached to his watch to turn off the gauntlet, and knelt down—well, more like fell to his knees. His gaze didn’t leave Tony, as if he would disappear if Peter looked away even for one second. He could feel both Tony and Morgan’s eyes on him.

“Petey? You okay?” Morgan asked, concern coloring her thin voice. Peter didn’t have an answer to that. He just looked at Tony, trying to take in the fact that he wasn’t all alone in the world anymore.

_He wasn’t all alone anymore._

“Tony,” he whispered, his voice so quiet that he wondered whether Tony was able to hear it at all. _You’re back,_ he thought, but he couldn’t even move his mouth to form the words. Instead, a choked sob left his mouth.

And he broke down in front of his recently revived mentor.


	3. Failure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this took me a while to post! i've just had a tiring weekend and wanted some time for myself, to work on personal stuff on my own time. but i'm back, and honestly i really like this chapter! hope you like it too!

**Six years ago**

_When Happy showed up in Midtown out of the blue in the middle of the school day, Peter thought it must’ve been an emergency. He was rushed out of class to the vice principal’s office, a thousand questions milling in his head. However, one look at Happy’s bright eyes told him that there wasn’t anything wrong._

_Just the opposite. Pepper was giving birth, and Tony wanted him to be there for it._

_All the way to the hospital, Peter’s heart was soaring. While he was incredibly happy that Tony and Pepper were having their first kid, especially since he knew just how much Tony wanted it, a part of him was afraid that the man would just abandon him now that he had a daughter. The fact that Tony specifically asked for his presence meant a lot, and relieved at least some of the pressure off of his shoulders._

_So Peter was basically a happy, bubbly mess when they arrived at the hospital, and rushed Happy so much that the man complained with every step until they arrived at the room. Pepper was out of the surgery and lying down with a little bundle of blankets in her arms. Tony was leaning over her, looking at the bundle with a bright spark in his eyes, as if he discovered something that would save the entire universe._ His _entire universe._

_Peter awkwardly stood at the door for a couple of seconds until Tony looked up. His smile grew wider. “Hey, kid,” he whispered. He’d never seen such a soft expression on the man’s face. “Come in, why are you standing out there like a doe-eyed fan?”_

_“I’m—I’m not,” Peter choked out. “I just didn’t want to interrupt the, uh, family moment.”_

_Tony just rolled his eyes. “You’re family too, Peter. Now come on.” Peter beamed at the comment as he approached the bed._

_“Hi, Mr. Stark. Mrs. Stark.” His eyes flickered to the bundle in Pepper’s arms. “Morgan,” he called the baby, remembering the name Mr. and Mrs. Stark chose for her earlier._

_Pepper positioned Morgan so that Peter could see her face under the multiple layers of blankets. It was red and puffy, her eyes were closed, and her lips were puckered so much that she looked like she could burst into tears any time. She was so ugly and adorable that if Peter didn’t know just how vulnerable babies were, he would pinch her cheeks immediately. “She’s so sweet,” he commented. A laugh escaped Tony’s lips._

_“She’s literally the ugliest thing I’ve seen in my life.”_

_“Mr. Stark!” Tony laughed even louder at Peter’s horrified expression. He just shrugged._

_“You know I’m right. Look at that face.” He booped Morgan’s nose lightly. “But that makes it all the more magical when she grows up to be a beautiful, strong girl.”_

_“I didn’t know you were so sentimental, Tony,” Pepper joked lightly. She barely took her eyes off of her daughter, her gaze filled with love. She traced a finger over Morgan’s lips._

_“You know I’m a softy at heart, Pep. That iron suit’s just protecting all the vulnerable parts inside.”_

_“Yeah, right.” She tried to sound sarcastic but failed. She looked up at her husband just in time as Tony leaned down to press a small kiss on her lips. He then kissed Morgan on the forehead._

_“Can you imagine her in a couple of years?” he murmured, adjusting the blanket around Morgan so that it was a bit looser and allowed more movement. “She’ll be running around our house and we’ll be chasing her, making sure she doesn’t break anything.”_

_“Come on, Tony. We know you’ll let her break everything in the house with one look.” Tony didn’t even try to hide it as he smiled and shrugged. His eyes flickered to Peter, just as the kid was starting to feel like an outsider again._

_“Then he’ll be a teenager like you, Pete. Hopefully with significantly less spiders.” Peter couldn’t help chuckling. “Though I do hope she ends up as smart as you are.”_

_Peter was sure he blushed red as a tomato at the comment. In fact, right after that, Happy gathered all of them for a family photo, and one could definitely see the red dots on his cheeks if they looked closely._

_It was one of his favorite photos that he took with Mr. Stark and his family._ Their _family._

* * *

Tony had seen Peter cry before. The kid could be an emotional mess sometimes, especially while watching movies that he was super invested in, or something difficult was going on in his life. Peter had _definitely_ cried in Tony’s arms before after a hard day, seeking the comfort of his mentor’s embrace.

However, Tony had never seen Peter completely break down in front of him, his body racking with painful sobs, his arms wrapped around his body. Peter wasn’t even reaching for Tony for a hug, which was weird for someone who always relied on touch for comfort before.

Tony’s embrace around Morgan loosened as shock took over him, and for a while he was at a loss of what to do. Reach out and hug Peter? Ask him what was wrong? _Would he even hear?_

“Petey?” Morgan’s whisper snapped him out of his thoughts and when Tony turned to look at his daughter, he saw that Morgan was just as shocked as he was. Tony could imagine that the little girl never saw Peter like this. Morgan’s hand reached for Tony’s and grasped it tightly, her own eyes filled with tears. “Dad, what’s wrong with Petey?”

“Uh…” What could Tony even say? That Peter would be fine? He didn’t even believe that himself.

Instead of answering, he reached out to Peter and softly put a hand on the kid’s shoulder. “Kid?” he murmured, afraid of startling Peter in the middle of a breakdown. Peter didn’t respond, but at least some tension had seeped out of his shoulders after Tony’s touch. That gave the man all the determination he needed—he reached out to wrap his arms around Peter’s shoulders and pull the kid into a tight embrace. Peter’s head fit tightly into the crook of his neck, even though he was definitely larger and wider than Tony remembered. After a second of delay, Peter hugged Tony back, crying even harder. His face was pressed tightly on Tony’s sweatshirt, which muffled his sobs, but his body was shaking so much that Tony felt himself rattling as he tried to hold onto the kid.

But he didn’t let go. He _wouldn’t_ let go. Instead, he rubbed Peter’s back, whispering whatever comfort words that came to mind. Morgan also reached out to Peter and offered a few pats on his arms, even though it seemed like the little girl was too terrified to do anything else. Her eyes were still searching for his father’s for comfort and Tony held out one hand for her to hold.

“Peter?” he whispered softly, running his free hand through Peter’s hair and massaging his scalp. The kid’s sobs were slowly dying down, even though his body was still trembling every now and then. “You wanna tell me what’s wrong? I’m all ears. Hey, even Morgan’s here to help.”

Morgan nodded fervently. “I want you to be okay, Petey. Just like you tell me when I’m crying.” She patted Peter’s shoulder again, her hand so small and delicate against the hard lines of Peter’s body. “And I’m not leaving until you smile!”

She sounded so determined that Tony couldn’t help smiling, even though by the looks of it, Peter was far from that. Slowly, he pulled back from Tony’s arms, his eyes unfocused and staring at the man’s chest. His hands were still grasping Tony’s sides tightly—too tightly, even, but Tony would never complain; it seemed like Peter needed it—but at least his sobs stopped for long enough for him to speak. He didn’t look up as quiet words left his mouth.

“I’m sorry.”

“What?” Tony blinked, wondering if he heard the kid right. “Kid, you never have to apologize for crying. You’re just—” Peter cut him softly.

“Not for that.” He gulped, as if it was a struggle to get the words out. “I couldn’t be the man you wanted me to be. I failed you and your company and the Avengers and…” Peter briefly glanced at Morgan. “And your daughter. I failed.”

_Uh…_ Tony had no idea how to respond to that. By the looks of it, Peter didn’t say any of that _just because._ He actually believed that he failed, which reminded Tony his old self—always self-deprecating and feeling like he wasn’t enough.

_Kid, that was the last thing I wanted you to inherit from me._

“What makes you say that?” Tony murmured, rubbing Peter’s shoulder. Half of the reason for the question was trying to figure out what the _hell_ was going on here—this was obviously a very different timeline than the one he remembered. The other half was wanting to learn what happened to Pete so that he could _help_ him. In no way he believed that Peter actually _failed_ anything.

He couldn’t speak for Stark Industries or the Avengers, but he definitely could speak for Morgan—the happy, bubbly girl he saw in the photos and in person was the physical proof that Peter didn’t fail in raising Morgan. Tony could gather from everything that Peter was the only person in Morgan’s life for years, and he managed to give Morgan a great life at such a young age. That didn’t sound like a failure to Tony.

“We were all alone,” Peter whispered, his gaze firmly set on his hands. “After Thanos… It was all too much.” He fell silent again, and Tony knew he wouldn’t continue. He was too shaken to be able to say much else.

“Morgan,” Tony whispered, and his daughter’s eyes turned to him. They were filled with concern. “Can you get me a glass of cold water?”

“What about Petey?” Despite everything, Tony smiled. It was heartwarming to see Morgan care so much about Peter. ( _This is why I risked time travel for,_ he couldn’t help thinking. _To see my two children alive and together_.)

“I got him, don’t worry.” Morgan seemed hesitant at first, but then she nodded and rushed to the kitchen. Once she disappeared behind the door, Tony turned to Peter. He took the boy’s head in his hands and guided it so that he could catch Peter’s eyes.

“Pete, I can only guess what happened after I died,” he started, his voice steady and confident. “But I know you. And there isn’t a universe in which you can fail me. Hey.” He stopped him when Peter tried to look away. “Do you understand that? No matter what you do, I love you. You are my kid, and I’ll always be proud of you, okay? So don’t you even think you failed me, because you _didn’t_. I don’t need to know what happened to believe that.”

Disbelief was apparent in Peter’s eyes. It seemed like he wanted to object, but then Morgan was back and handing him a glass of cold water. He gingerly took it and murmured a thanks. His eyes found Tony’s again.

“I really missed you,” he admitted, his voice cracking halfway through. Tony’s heart broke at the honesty of those words. He smiled and ruffled Peter’s hair—yeah, the kid was older, blah blah blah, he didn’t care. Peter would always be his little boy.

“I missed you too, kid.”

* * *

Exhaustion took Peter over pretty quickly. They were on the couch, watching some new Netflix show, Tony in the middle of his two kids—Morgan had her head on Tony’s leg as she curled up on the couch, and Peter rested his cheek on his shoulder. They were halfway through the first episode when Peter’s eyes drifted close, and soon enough he was snoring softly. A small smile pulled Tony’s lips.

“Petey’s asleep?” Morgan asked, her own voice sleepy. Tony nodded and pressed a small kiss on Peter’s head. “Daddy?”

“Yeah, Maguna?”

“Is Petey really okay?” Her eyes were wide and worried as she looked up. “He never cried before, and crying means you’re sad, so…”

Tony sighed. He wanted to be able to say yes, but honestly… He had no idea. He’d never seen Peter break down like that, filled with so much self-hate. Sure, Peter had messed up before, made a bunch of mistakes, but for some reason… It felt different when he said he failed. It didn’t sound like failing an exam, it sounded like… Well, failing an entire universe was the best analogy Tony could come up with.

At least Peter didn’t end up going off the rails like Thor.

“I don’t know,” he admitted finally, fingers gently running through Morgan’s hair. “But we’ll figure out what’s going on with him, won’t we? You and I can do _anything_.”

“Yeah! We can be like a power duo.”

“Absolutely.” Tony grinned and ruffled Morgan’s hair, watching a grin spread on her face. Her eyes were drifting close, even though she was trying to stay strong. “Now why don’t we go to sleep? We’re gonna need all our strength if we want to help Peter.”

“I don’t wanna sleep,” Morgan complained, right before a yawn. Tony couldn’t help chuckling. Yeah, despite everything, Morgan was still the stubborn little girl he remembered. “I’m not tired.”

“Hmm, really? How about if I tell you a story?” Morgan perked up for a second.

“What story?”

“Whatever you want.” He looked down at Morgan and could see that the girl was considering the offer. After a while she nodded. Morgan could never say no to a good story. “Now why don’t you go get ready for bed while I wake up Petey?”

“Uh-huh,” Morgan muttered and shuffled into a sitting position. Her hair was all over the place, but she still was the cutest little girl Tony had ever seen. “Don’t be late.” After the quiet warning, she made her way to the bathroom, disappearing into the hallway. Tony watched her leave before turning to Peter. He softly touched his shoulder so as not to startle him.

“Peter? Hey, Pete?” Peter’s eyes slowly opened and he blinked several times wake himself up. “It’s almost 11 pm. You wanna go to bed now?”

His gaze was unfocused as he stared at Tony for a few seconds. “Yeah, I… Wait, Morgan.” His eyes snapped up. “I need to put her to bed—”

“Kid, I got it. You go to sleep, okay?” Tony offered Peter a smile and squeezed the kid’s shoulder. Peter stopped at the words, seemingly not comprehending for a second.

“But I always tuck Morgan in,” he objected weakly. He couldn’t even keep his eyes open; Tony had no idea how he would even make sure Morgan was tucked in. He smiled and squeezed Peter’s shoulder.

“Well, I’m here now. I’ll take care of Morgan. You look like you’ll fall over if you stay up longer, okay?”

It seemed like _now_ Peter comprehended the words. Silent tears filled his eyes as he nodded and allowed Tony to help him stand. He couldn’t even mutter a good night—that was just how tired he was—before moving to the hallway, feet dragging on the hardwood flood. He stopped in front of a door that Tony assumed was his bedroom and looked back at Tony. A frown had crinkled his forehead.

“You’re not gonna disappear if I sleep, right?” he asked, and if the question didn’t sound so genuine, Tony would’ve laughed. Instead, he had to force a smile, a flash of pain shooting through his veins. _Just how lonely had Peter been before?_

“No, kid. I’m not going anywhere.”

That, at least, seemed to comfort Peter a bit. “Good,” he whispered with a nod, his eyes finding Tony again. “Good night, dad.”

Then he disappeared into his bedroom, leaving a frozen Tony behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let me know if y'all enjoy flashbacks. i was thinking of peppering in some, especially from those years Peter was raising Morgan all by himself - thought it might be cute. let me know what you think!


	4. Scrambled Eggs, Pancakes, and Maple Syrup

Morgan, as with any kid Tony assumed, hated going to bed at nights, but hated waking up in the morning even more. When Tony entered her room with a tray of scrambled eggs, pancakes, and an orange juice, she was sleeping soundly under the blanket and didn’t even stir when he opened the curtains.

“Morgan?” Tony called out, quietly approaching the bed. He tried to tug the blanket off of Morgan’s body but the girl groaned and held onto it. She covered her eyes with her arm. A smile pulled Tony’s lips. “You do realize that I can see you even if you cover your eyes, right?”

“I wanna sleeeeeeep,” Morgan complained, rolling to the other side. Tony put the breakfast tray on the bedside table and tugged the blanket again.

“Maguna?”

“Go _away.”_

“Hey, I made you breakfast. Your favorite, too: scrambled eggs and pancakes. I even have maple syrup here. You wouldn’t want to miss all of that, would you?” Morgan stopped shuffling under the blanket. Tony could almost feel her thinking—would she give in to her hunger and wake up, or would she stubbornly continue to sleep at the expense of her favorite breakfast?

“Do I have to go to school if I wake up?” she asked, one eye open. Tony just chuckled.

“Well, duh. You gotta learn your stuff, right?”

“But _Dad,”_ Morgan complained, but Tony shook his head.

“Nuh-uh. I refuse to let any daughter of mine not be educated to the best of their ability.” He laughed when he saw Morgan’s blank face. “Besides, this will be my first time taking you to school.” ( _Literally,_ Tony thought. _The Morgan I remember wasn’t old enough for primary school._ ) “You wouldn’t want to deprive me of that, right?”

“No,” Morgan grumbled as she straightened up on the bed, her hair all over the place, her Iron Man PJs wrinkled in places. “But only because you’re my dad and I missed you.” Tony grinned at her daughter and ruffled her already messy hair, to Morgan’s dismay.

“I’ll take that.”

* * *

After Morgan went to the bathroom and stuffed the breakfast in her mouth as if someone was chasing her, Tony got her into her uniform—a white polo t-shirt and navy plaid skirt—and tied her hair into a messy braid. (“You know how to braid?” Morgan had asked when he offered. Tony was surprised at first—of course he knew, he learned from Pepper for this exact purpose. Then he remembered that he wasn’t a part of Morgan’s life for a while in this reality.) Morgan’s school was ten minutes away, so Tony left Peter a note saying that he was dropping Morgan off before leaving.

That morning, before he even woke Morgan up, Tony got up in hopes of figuring out what the fucking hell was going on with this reality. That was kind of how he knew Morgan’s school and when it started, he knew Peter was the one that usually dropped Morgan off, and after the previous night he assumed the kid might want to sleep in.

A little bit hacking into Peter’s laptop—maybe it was an invasion of privacy but whatever—worked miracles.

He also found Peter’s weekly schedule at MIT and saw that the kid didn’t have a class until one in the afternoon—translation, he was letting Peter sleep in. He hoped Peter wouldn’t mind him turning off his alarm.

Or that he made a mess of Peter’s kitchen while trying to prepare breakfast. It wasn’t his fault that he had absolutely no idea where anything was and Peter wasn’t the most organized person.

Now he was sitting in front of Peter’s computer again after dropping Morgan off, but this time instead of snooping through Peter’s personal stuff—okay, he might be feeling _slightly_ bad about that—he had about a dozen news sites open, trying to piece together everything that happened after he snapped.

Well, okay, _correction._ Apparently, in this universe, Tony didn’t snap at all. Neither did Bruce, although he did apparently succeed in putting his brain into Hulk—meaning, he survived Thanos’s initial snap. There was no mention or record of time heist, so Tony assumed it never happened.

Well, in a way, it made sense. In his version of the reality, they would’ve never succeeded in doing the time heist without him—the one brain cell all the other Avengers shared was _definitely_ not an expert in quantum mechanics. And it seems like Tony was among the people Thanos snapped away five years ago.

In this reality, he died with Thanos, and Tony had no clue how any version of his own snap would lead to this messed up timeline. He certainly wasn’t the one that dreamt it up. Did he fail and Thanos snapped again, like he said he would?

He had no idea. He also didn’t know how he would even begin fixing this mess because it wasn’t only him that Thanos took away five years ago—pretty much all the Avengers were snapped away. Almost all of the core six were gone—except Bruce, of course—and Tony also found death notices for Rhodey, Vision, Wanda, Bucky, and T’Challa, Wakanda’s king. In fact, other than Bruce, the only person from their broken-up Avengers circle that survived seemed to be…Peter.

Peter, who apparently retired Spider-Man shortly after the snap. Tony found several articles talking about Spider-Man’s sudden disappearance, and the hero hadn’t been active for at least four years. That was…concerning, to say the least. Tony knew just how much Spider-Man meant to Peter. For him to have given up…

_Well, dumbass, this isn’t the Peter you remember,_ his mind supplied unhelpfully. _Stop comparing him to the happy bubbly teenager from your past._

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” he murmured to himself. “Can’t I be just a _little_ heartbroken that he’s all mopey and sad now?”

_Wouldn’t you be, if this was your future?_ Tony looked at the list of dead heroes on the computer, the dozens of names and pictures that filled the screen. His name was on the top left corner, right next to Pepper.

Yeah, he’d definitely be depressed if this was his future.

Wanting to look at something more optimistic, he googled _Tony Stark daughter._ The first article that caught his eye on the first page was from _Buzzfeed_ —because of course it was.

**Tony Stark’s Daughter Inherits Half of Her Father’s Estates, Making Her the Youngest Billionaire in the World.**

_Half of…_ Curious, Tony clicked on the article, skimming the exaggerated “Buzzfeed-y” portions to get to the news part.

_The other half of Tony Stark’s fortune is said to be inherited by Peter Benjamin Parker. Our sources in Stark Industries indicate that Parker is a high school intern—a first and only case for Stark Industries, no less!—who worked closely with Stark himself before his death. While there’s no evidence that Parker is Stark’s biological son, we wouldn’t discard that possibility just yet!_

Tony scoffed at the last part of the article—really, it was his fault for looking up something on Buzzfeed. He went back and clicked on another article, this time from CNN.

**Tony Stark and His Wife, Pepper Stark, Welcome Their Daughter Into the World**

Before he even scrolled down, he saw a picture of himself and Pepper at Morgan’s birth, apparently taken from his Twitter account if the source was to be believed. His eyes flickered to the date.

_November 14 th, 2017._

Almost two years before his Morgan was born. And a year before Thanos’s snap.

That certainly explained why Peter was alive for Morgan’s birth, and even why Morgan still existed even though he and Pepper were snapped away, but… That also meant for some reason, the changes in the timeline in this reality went back almost six years. Tony didn’t know how it could’ve even happened, or even _why_ someone would’ve done that—at least assuming his snap didn’t cause this—but all he knew was that he had to figure out a way to amend this. They saved the universe once, they could do it again, right?

…except half the heroes that did the saving weren’t here. And Tony had no idea where they would even _begin_ reversing the snap, again. The last time they did it, it almost resulted in a worse death for the universe.

Trying to forget that for a second, Tony went back to the article. It talked a little bit about his and Pepper’s pregnancy and gender announcements, how Tony was praised as some sort of an ideal father figure for staying home to take care of Morgan while Pepper worked—as if he wasn’t home most of the time anyway and didn’t have a huge ass lab so that he _could_ work from home, but whatever—and finally Morgan’s name. Tony realized quickly that other than the date of Morgan’s birth, nothing much was different—Morgan even looked _exactly_ like his Morgan, just a bit older.

He was just about to go back and look into Avengers, just to see if anything changed in that front, when he was interrupted by a crash coming from behind him. He turned to the hallway to see Peter’s door swing open and the absolutely frantic boy leave his room, still in the clothes he wore tomorrow, his hair a curly mess. Peter immediately rushed into Morgan’s room, his high pitched, fearful voice reaching even Tony.

“Morgan, ohmygod I’m so sorry I must’ve slept through my alarm, I’m sorry we’re late for school, I can just swing you—” Tony could pinpoint the moment Peter noticed Morgan was gone. He went to Morgan’s room to see Peter standing in the middle of it, frozen. “Morgan?”

“I got her to school, kid,” Tony explained. Peter spun around, a hand rushing to his gauntlet watch, before he stopped. He blinked at Tony several times.

“You got her…”

“Yeah, got her school’s name and address from your computer. Sorry for snooping but I thought you might want to sleep in. Especially since you don’t have class until after lunch and MIT is just around the corner.” Tony’s voice trailed off when he saw the tears fill Peter’s eyes. Oh boy, did he do something wrong? He was _pretty sure_ he got the school right; even Morgan recognized it. “Kid, is everything okay?”

Peter blinked again and quickly wiped away his tears. His eyes flickered to Morgan’s empty, tidied up bed, then her PJs neatly resting on top of the blankets, and then back to Tony. He gulped and nodded. “Yeah, I just… I always took her to school, so I thought…”

“That you missed it?” It made sense, especially since Peter seemed reluctant to sleep the last night before tucking Morgan in. It solidified for Tony that the kid really was taking care of Morgan all alone for the last few years.

Damn. When Thanos happened, Peter was just _seventeen._ Too young to be a parent. Did no one really provide any help to the kid? Did no one take care of _him?_

Oh, Tony would have some words with the remaining Avengers.

“I forgot you were here,” Peter explained simply. “When I saw it was 10…” Peter didn’t continue, but he didn’t need to. Tony could feel his fear from his eyes. An urge to wrap Peter into a tight hug coiled his stomach, and for once he didn’t fight it. He took Peter by the shoulders tightly and wrapped his arms around him, letting the kid rest his head on his shoulders. Peter’s own arms circled him and Tony was sure he felt a slight wetness on his t-shirt.

“Pete, whatever happens, I’m here now. You’re not alone, okay? Get that into your head.” Peter didn’t speak but Tony felt him nod. He pressed a kiss on Peter’s hair before changing the subject. “Now, how about we eat some breakfast and talk? I wanna catch up with what was going on the last few years.”

“Uh…” Peter cleared his throat before he pulled back. He couldn’t even look at Tony’s eyes. “It’s not pleasant.”

“I don’t care,” Tony immediately cut in. “I wanna know what my kids were doing in the few years that I lost.” _And figure out how to fix this mess, hopefully._ Peter still seemed hesitant, so he continued. “Pete, nothing you say will make me leave. Got it?”

“Yeah, it’s just…” Peter frowned, still unsure, but then nodded. “Okay. I’ll tell you everything.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sooooo...any theories about what's going on here? and why?
> 
> just wondering what y'all think, so let me know!


	5. Where Are Our Heroes Now?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> man i got emotional writing this chapter. i am so sorry, y'all - prepare for the angst.

**Five Years Ago**

_Peter felt it before it even started._

_The hair at the nape of his neck stood and in mere seconds, he felt like the temperature dropped at least ten degrees. He didn’t need to see Doctor Strange’s defeated look to know what had happened. The wizard’s eyes were cast down and he only looked up when he felt two sets of eyes on himself._

_They’d lost. Thanos got all the infinity stones and snapped._

_But the reality didn’t hit Peter until he looked around and right in front of his eyes, two of the Guardians turned into dust._ I didn’t even know their names. _He could feel his thundering heart as fear gripped him. Would he die with them? Would he be in the half that got snapped away? What about the people he loved? May, Ned, MJ, Pepper, Morgan…_

_Tony._ God, Tony. _His eyes flickered to the man. Tony’s eyes were on Doctor Strange, an unreadable expression on his face, yet Peter could still discern the fear. He was looking for a way out, Peter was sure, but there was none._

_“There was no other way,” Strange muttered with a shake of his head. He kept his eyes on Tony and for some reason, Peter thought he was waiting for something._ Hoping _for something, even though he had no idea what. What was there to hope for?_

_“Peter.” Peter’s eyes flickered to Tony with the hoarse voice coming from the man. He’d been so focused on Doctor Strange, so focused on hopelessness and fear, that it took him a couple of seconds to process Tony’s voice. He felt it first before he saw it—the man’s body disintegrating into dust particles. Slowly, very slowly, as if the universe was apologizing for taking away such a great man._

_As if_ Thanos himself _was apologizing. Peter remembered vaguely what the Titan told Tony during the fight._ I hope they remember you. _Tony had even earned the Titan’s respect, and yet…_

_And yet Thanos kept his word. Half of the universe, completely random. No one was safe from it. Not even Tony Stark._

_Peter stumbled forward. “Mr. Stark?” A sad smile crossed the man’s face. He wanted to reach for Peter, but his arms were already dust, and Peter only stumbled when he tried to hold onto them. Terror took over his body as he looked up at Tony—his mentor, his family, his father figure. He was dying. Tony was dying and there was nothing he could do._

_“I love y-“ Tony started, but before he could finish his words, he was gone. The only thing Peter grasped when he lunged forward were pieces of dust. He fell to the ground, coughing, tears prickling in his eyes._

Tony’s gone. Tony’s gone. Tony’s gone. _His brain was repeating it as a mantra, as if it would become less real if he said it over and over again. As if he would be able to wake himself up from the nightmare. He looked up again, only to see the broken look on Doctor Strange’s face._

_The man’s eyes found Peter. The question felt like a stab in the back for Peter. “Did we lose?”_

_Doctor Strange didn’t even answer the question. He just looked at the spot where Tony… Where he died. “He was our only hope.”_

* * *

“So let me get this straight.” Tony’s eyes were fixed on a street painting right outside of Peter’s window, picturing him and the rest of the Avengers with a message in the front, written in bold, messy handwriting: WHERE ARE OUR HEROES NOW? The painting was old and fainting, but the writing was bright and black; it was obvious that the words were a later addition—presumably post-Thanos. Tony’s eyes flickered over the faces of his friend—Bruce, Nat, Steve, Clint, Thor… _All of them except Bruce is gone,_ a voice inside of him whispered.

He turned to Peter when the painting felt too depressing. The kid was sitting by the kitchen counter, half-eaten pancakes in front of him, his hands tightly wrapped around a large cup of coffee. His head was tilted forward so the faint morning sun only illuminated half of it, casting him in shadows. Tony noticed that half of the coffee was already gone. _Peter never used to like coffee,_ he thought. _Made him too antsy._

He couldn’t help thinking now that this Peter seemed like he _relied_ on coffee to stay up. Tony remembered the packs of coffee he saw in the kid’s trash—it wasn’t Morgan that was drinking all of those. At least Tony _hoped_ it wasn’t.

“You mean to tell me that _none of the Avengers_ took you or Morgan in after the snap?” Even the thought of it boiled Tony’s blood. How—how could all of them just _leave_ Peter alone in taking care of Morgan? How could none of them _care?_ They were his friends— _friends,_ damn it. And none offered a helping hand to his children when they needed it the most, when they lost all of their families.

“Bruce tried,” Peter murmured quietly. “He kept Morgan and I out of the foster care system. We inherited your estates so… You know, made us valuable.” Tony shivered at the thought and remembered the article that named Morgan youngest billionaire. Yeah, he could imagine a lot of people wanting to adopt either of them just for their money.

“But he didn’t take you in?”

“He was scared,” Peter shrugged. “He didn’t want Hulk to hurt us. Taking care of a baby isn’t easy, you know, and one mistake…”

“So he just _left_ Morgan to you?” Honestly, Bruce’s excuse felt just like that—an _excuse._ God, sure, Bruce had a temper of sorts, but that didn’t mean he had to just leave Peter alone to take care of Morgan. Besides… “Wait, didn’t Bruce manage to tame Hulk? He could’ve come after that.” Hurt briefly flashed through Peter’s eyes, and Tony had his answer. Yeah, he could’ve. But he didn’t.

Tony’s throat knotted. “Kid, I…” He was at a loss of words. He didn’t even know what he could say to make any of it better. “I’m so sorry.” 

“You have nothing to apologize for.” There was no hesitation in Peter’s words. Tony just stared at him, disbelieving. “You were snapped away. Not like you could’ve controlled it.” Tony knew Peter was right, yet guilt and anger were churning in his stomach. He moved to the kitchen counter and sat across from Peter.

“I’m sorry you felt like you _needed_ to take care of Morgan, Pete. I’m sorry if I made you feel that way.”

“I couldn’t have just let her go into the system and be adopted by a family that just wanted her for money.” A haunted look crossed Peter’s eyes, but he quickly hid it behind his coffee cup. The cup looked like it was almost empty and before he continued, Peter moved to the coffee machine to fill it up. His shoulders were slumped and his hair fell over his shoulders in messy curls, as if he didn’t have the time or energy to tidy it. Even though his back was turned, Tony remembered the large purple bags under Peter’s eyes and his sunken cheeks.

His kid was _tired,_ and it didn’t look like a day or a week’s worth of exhaustion. It was like years worth of it weighed on Peter’s shoulders, turning him into a husk of the teenager Tony remembered.

“You took me in like family,” Peter continued, taking Tony out of his thoughts. “Gave me a room in your house. Even after Morgan, you made me feel like I belonged there. I was never second best just because I wasn’t your own kid. I just… Protecting Morgan was supposed to be my way of paying you back for that. Taking care of your child and making sure she grew up happy and healthy.”

_Kid, you didn’t have to,_ Tony thought, but it was obvious he wouldn’t be able to convince Peter otherwise. That wasn’t the part that worried him most, anyway.

“ _Supposed_ to?” he asked, his brows furrowed. Peter slumped even more than before, to Tony’s dismay. He really thought that would be impossible.

“I was just too busy to take care of her. With school, your company, and everything else… I wasn’t with her a lot. I couldn’t make her happy—”

“Wait, hold up.” Tony stopped Peter before he even started to claim he somehow failed at raising Morgan. “Is there another Morgan I don’t know about? Because the one I saw here couldn’t have looked happier to me.”

“I mean… Yeah, she’s happy, but she could’ve been happier. I had to drag her to school with me, even here from New York because I had to go to college, and she had to spend a lot of time in the Stark Industries as I was working… I didn’t even get to read her nighttime stories most of the time because I had to study. She grew up listening to me reciting my textbooks—why are you smiling?”

“Kid, whatever you had to do to take care of Morgan, I don’t think she minded. She loves you, you know that, right?”

“She doesn’t know any better,” Peter whispered. His face was an impassive mask, but Tony could see the utter pain swimming in his bright brown eyes. He wanted to tell Peter just how wrong he was about Morgan—really, was there even a perfect childhood, as long as Morgan was happy?—but Peter was quicker. He changed the subject before Tony even opened his mouth.

“It doesn’t matter. It’s the past.” His eyes, now more curious than anything, focused on Tony’s. “How are you here?” His voice cracked in the middle. Tony closed his mouth—his will to speak went from a hundred to zero real quick.

How could he tell Peter that there was a teeny tiny but very real possibility that this was his fault? That in full Avengers fashion, he messed everything up while trying to save the universe? Peter saw him as a hero—as family. He couldn’t take it if the hopeful, caring look in the kid’s eyes turned back to the hateful one from the first night.

“You died,” Peter continued when Tony didn’t say anything. “I saw it happen. I just… I don’t understand how you’re—you’re back when no one else is.”

“I wish I knew,” Tony whispered, palms open. He hoped his expression didn’t look as guilty as he felt. He still couldn’t bring himself to tell Peter the whole truth. “I just woke up here right before you find me, to find that my kid is five years older than I remembered.” The lie felt sour on his tongue, but at least Peter didn’t seem suspicious. Just…concerned. Well, correction. Positively frightened would be a better description.

“But you’re staying, right? It’s not some sort of temporary thing or a hallucination? Well, I guess it can’t be a hallucination since Morgan saw you too, unless both of us are affected by something—”

“Kid, I’m staying.” _At least until I figure out what the hell is going on. Then I’m fixing this nightmarish reality because damn I want my happy, bubbly kids back._ “I feel fine. I’m not gonna disappear on you again.”

Peter bit his lip and stayed silent. Tony knew from his eyes that he wanted to believe Tony so badly, but he was just too scared that all of this would end up being a brief period of respite rather than a permanent thing. To convince the kid that he was really here, Tony reached forward and squeezed his wrist, offering him a small smile.

A beep coming from Peter’s watch interrupted them. It was 12:30, meaning Peter had thirty minutes to get to class. Peter was staring at the notification as if it suddenly brought him back to reality. He looked back at Tony.

“I have class in thirty minutes.” It was easy to tell from his voice that no part of him wanted to actually go to class. It took Tony less than a second to decide.

“No, you don’t,” he said as he pushed himself up from his seat. He went to pick Peter’s laptop up from the coffee table and opened it up, turning it to Peter so he could punch in his password. (He could let FRIDAY hack into it, but he didn’t necessarily want to.) Peter just watched as he opened up a text editor and in the span of half a minute, drafted an email to Peter’s deans to ask for excuse and extensions.

“Here you go. Send that to your deans.” Peter’s brows arched as he read the email draft.

“Did you just ask my deans for extensions because of a _custody battle over Morgan?_ ” He sounded incredulous, but Tony just grinned.

“I mean, it’s not a lie that someone claiming to be Morgan’s relative is back. Not that I’d put you through any legal hurdles, but that’s besides the point—wait. They do know about Morgan, right?” Oh, Tony would smack some sense into the kid if they didn’t. But Peter just nodded vaguely.

“Yeah. Only reason they let me get my own apartment instead of staying in dorms my freshman—wow, you literally didn’t hold back any emotional punches.” Peter’s eyes skimmed over the last part of the email. “Did you really need to detail my relationship to Morgan that much? I mean, saying Morgan sees me as her older brother would’ve been enough.” Still, Tony saw that he was opening up his school email. He grinned.

“Well, the emotion part was to ensure that you actually got the extensions. Gotta play it up a bit for the deans. Besides, is any of it a lie?”

“Other than you apparently fighting with me for Morgan’s custody?”

“Shh.” When Tony tried to shush Peter, it earned a small smile from the kid. Tony’s heart soared to see at least the slight bit of happiness on his kid’s face. With a few quick taps, Peter sent the email and then turned to Tony. He had an unreadable expression on his face, obscured even more by the fact that the sunlight only illuminated half of it. A soft sigh left his lips before he spoke, his words strained and quiet.

“I need to show you something.”


	6. A Face from the Past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so sorry this is late! i'm supposed to be giving a presentation this week, and i've been super busy working on that. but i'm treating you with a longer chapter, so hope you like it!
> 
> also, i have no idea how inheritance works, so if i botched that, i'm sorry. just roll with it please, because i am way too tired to actually confirm if i got it right.

**Five Years Ago**

_Five days ago, Peter would’ve laughed if someone told him that in less than a week, he would be sitting in Mr. Stark’s living room, Morgan at his feet playing with a number of giant superhero plushies, talking to Mr. Stark’s lawyers about the man’s inheritance._

_Now, though, he had a heavy load of files in his lap, had no idea what half of it meant, and the only thing he knew…_

_“Wait, I inherit half of Mr. Stark’s estates?” He could feel the exasperation of the team of lawyers sitting across from him. Not that he could blame them. They had to sit around while Peter dealt with an especially obnoxious Morgan, crying for seemingly no reason until he was able to calm her down, and even now their conversation was interrupted every now and then with Morgan’s babbles. Not only that, Peter didn’t know half the terms and legal jargon the lawyers spouted at him, was asking questions at every turn, and it seemed every one of the lawyers just about had enough of both Peter and Morgan and were only still there because it was their job._

_“Yes, Mr. Parker,” said the blonde-haired woman, who seemed to be the leader of the group. “Mr. Stark stated in his will that you inherit his properties in New York, and Miss Stark”—the lawyer’s eyes begrudgingly turned to Morgan—"will inherit his properties in the other parts of the U.S. He also left you all his… Iron Man suits.” The woman narrowed his eyes at the stack of paper she was holding in her hand, which Peter assumed was Tony’s will. “It states here that there are twenty-one of them, and you would know where they are.”_

_Peter couldn’t even answer, even though he knew what the woman was talking about. When the silence became uncomfortable, the lawyer lady continued anyway. (Peter really wished he remembered her name so that he wouldn’t call her “the lawyer lady” in his mind.)_

_“You inherit all of Mr. Stark’s unfinished projects, including anything he was working on privately or with Stark Industries. He also named you as the heir of the company, meaning you inherit his shares and position, as well as the company building itself. Additionally, you inherit—”_

_“Wait, hold on,” Peter stopped her again, the meaning of her words finally settling in. Even Morgan stopped babbling as he leaned forward, his uncomprehending eyes on the lawyer lady. “Did you just say I’m the heir to Stark Industries?” This time, there was_ definitely _an audible sigh from one of the lawyers. The lawyer lady, however, continued on unrelenting._

_“Yes, Mr. Parker.”_

_“But…I’m just seventeen. Doesn’t that make me a minor?”_

_“I was just coming to that. Would you like me to explain you what happens with your property now, or after I tell you everything you inherit?” The lawyer lady was definitely clenching her teeth now. She turned back to the will when Peter just gestured her to go ahead._

_“You also inherit the Avengers compound and any mission or project the Avengers are involved in.” She eyed Peter, as if she couldn’t believe the Tony Stark just left the Avengers in the hands of a teenager. Peter just gulped._

_“Anything else?”_

_“There is also a considerable sum of money Mr. Stark left you. In total, you inherit around five billion dollars worth of properties.”_

_Peter was sure he would’ve spurted out anything he was drinking if his mouth was full. He just stared incredulously at the lawyer lady. “Five…billion? To a teenager?” His eyes flickered to Morgan._ And a baby, _he added in his mind but didn’t say it out loud._

_“Well, Mr. Stark named possible custodians to manage your properties until you are eighteen. Whoever is left alive…at least.” The lawyer lady looked incredibly uncomfortable at the mention of that, while all Peter could think was when Mr. Stark arranged to add that to his will. (He was pretty sure the man did it just in case Thanos succeeded, as they would have no way of knowing who would survive.)_

_“Do you want me to give you a list…” Peter nodded at the lawyer lady. She looked down and gulped—Peter couldn’t help thinking she looked a bit paler now. She handed Peter a piece of paper._

_One glance through it, and Peter’s stomach clenched. Pepper wasn’t even on the list, he noticed—as far as the lawyers informed him, Tony actually left everything to Pepper, and Peter and Morgan only inherited all of it in case she was also…_

_He looked down at the other names. Colonel Rhodes was gone. Happy was gone. May—Peter was only slightly surprised that she was there before pain flared in his chest—was gone. Bruce…_

_“Bruce Banner is alive,” he whispered and looked at the lawyer lady. “I can give you his number.”_

_“Please.” Silence fell onto the room as Peter quickly opened his phone and texted the lady Bruce’s number. She just glanced at her phone when it vibrated, and then turned to Peter. Her face was unreadable. “Mr. Parker,” she said, her voice soft for once. “Mr. Stark also named Bruce Banner as Miss Stark’s guardian.”_

_Peter was taken aback by the news. “Uh…what?”_

_“Miss Stark needs a guardian. The alternative is putting her into the foster care system, which I’m sure wouldn’t be ideal—”_

_“No, yeah, I know.” Peter frowned and stared at Morgan. The little girl had been in his care for the last few days, since Doctor Strange teleported him to the Stark residence, told him that Morgan was alone, and left. In the rush of everything, Peter never really considered that Morgan would need an actual adult to take care of her, especially when Peter’s school started again and he would have to go back to “real life”. (As if anything felt real at this moment.)_

_It was stupid, but a part of Peter thought that by some miracle, Mr. Stark would come back to take care of Morgan. He was only looking after the girl temporarily. The reality of the situation hit only then, when the lawyer lady brought up the guardianship._

_He gulped, trying to get rid of the knot in his throat. He looked up at the woman. “What about me?” he couldn’t help asking. “I’m not eighteen for another eight months.”_

_“Mr. Stark isn’t your father, so he couldn’t name a guardian for you. But…” She seemed to be thinking. “Since you’re almost eighteen, we can arrange that you’re emancipated, so you wouldn’t need a guardian. In the state that the government is right now, I don’t imagine it would be hard.”_

_“Yeah, that—that sounds good.” Peter gulped again. It felt unbelievable that there was literally no one that could even be named as his guardian, other than Bruce, and Peter didn’t even know what the man would feel about being Morgan’s guardian in the first place._

_He also didn’t know how Bruce would feel about getting a call from Tony Stark’s lawyers with the news. He looked up at the lawyer lady. “Just… Can you give me a day to talk to Bruce myself?” he asked, his voice hoarse. She nodded, a sympathetic look crossing her eyes._

_The team of lawyers departed soon after, leaving a shaky Peter behind. He only came to his senses when Morgan pulled on his pants, her eyes wide and her lips pursed. “Dada?” she asked, her voice pitchy. Peter’s eyes slowly filled with tears._

_“Dad’s not coming, Morgan,” he whispered, trying to talk over the knot in his throat. “He’s_ gone _.”_

_It was the first time Peter said those words out loud. The only time he even acknowledged them. His vision blurred and the first sob escaped his body inadvertently. He couldn’t stop the rest._

_So he sat there, sobs racking his body, with a crying one-year-old Morgan by his feet, their voices echoing in the utterly empty living room._

* * *

“I renovated and rented out a lot of your houses after I came to college.” Car keys were dangling from Peter’s fingers as he walked through the parking lot. He walked just in front of Tony, glancing back at the man every now and then as if to ensure he was still there. Even though he looked tense, Tony could see a jump in his steps—a hint of the bubbly happiness he was so used to seeing in Peter. It was faded and nothing close to what Tony remembered it to be, but after watching the kid break down in tears in front of him, he’d much prefer this.

“I didn’t really need the money thanks to your, uh, will, but I just wanted to have some income, you know? And working wasn’t really an option because…” Peter’s eyes flickered to Tony then, a hint of blush on his cheeks. “I just wanted to be there for Morgan as much as possible. Hope you don’t mind? I mean, if I’d known you’d be back—”

“It’s okay, Pete,” Tony stopped his babble, a smile on his face. “I had way too many properties for my own good anyway. Good to know they’re being used for something.” He gently patted Peter on the back. “But I do remember having a house in Boston. Why this place?”

“The rent was decent enough,” Peter shrugged. Tony just gaped at him, the words at the tip of his tongue. Didn’t he just read on the computer that Peter and Morgan were literal billionaires, inheriting half of his fortune each? And his worry was the rent? “It’s also close to campus so it’s easy for me to get to class by foot. I don’t really like driving.”

“Right.” Tony fondly remembered that before the snap, Peter was absolutely terrified about getting his driver’s license. _But why would I even_ need _one, Mr. Stark? I can just swing to wherever I need to go and it’s faster! There’s not even traffic_ , he used to say, his lips pursed and his eyes wide as a puppy’s. “I’m surprised you managed to get your driver’s license without crashing your car into a tree.”

“Hey! I would have you know, I passed the test in my first try,” Peter objected, a hint of offense in his voice. “And I haven’t crashed the car once since then. I might’ve scratched a couple of doors, but no accidents.”

“Scratched a couple of doors…?” A blush spread on Peter’s cheek as he stood next to his car. “Uh, you know what? Why don’t I drive, huh? You can just tell me where we’re going.”

Peter hesitated for a second, obviously used to doing this all by himself. He handed the car keys to Tony after a moment of hesitation and Tony jumped into the driver’s seat of the red Mercedes. He quickly noticed the fluffy white blanket and giant pillow resting on the backseat. “They’re for Morgan,” Peter explained quickly as he got into the car as well. “She likes sleeping in cars.”

Tony smiled at the gesture. Of course, a blanket and a pillow for his little girl would be exactly something Peter would think of. He started the car with a smile on his face. “I always knew you’d be a good brother.”

Surprise splashed on Peter’s face first, but it was quickly replaced by a grateful spark in his eyes. Tony knew there was a time before he lost Peter to Thanos that those words would never leave his mouth, and not because he didn’t have Morgan yet. He was just too terrified that Peter didn’t see him as a father figure, or that he would fail the boy as a father, that he would never admit to himself that he might see Peter as a son.

When Peter was gone, he spent five years regretting he never got to tell the kid just how much he meant to him. He wasn’t about to make the same mistake again. Besides, there was no doubt that Peter saw Morgan as a little sister, just from the way he took care of her so well.

“I try,” Peter shrugged, still so humble about his care. Tony was about to scoff and tell him that he could own up to the fact that, despite the hardships, he was a good brother, when Peter suddenly looked up with a frown. “But I thought… Didn’t you drive Morgan to school?”

“Kid, I didn’t even know you had a car,” Tony reasoned, which was true. “I called a cab. The driver spent half the time talking about how I looked exactly like Tony Stark. It was amusing because Morgan told him that I was, and then got offended when he just laughed and called her a silly girl.”

A laugh left Peter’s mouth. “I’m surprised she didn’t say anything else to the driver.”

“Oh, she tried. But I just told him that my identity could be our little secret.” _She really loved it when she felt like she knew something others didn’t,_ he thought inside but didn’t say it. As far as Peter believed, Tony didn’t know Morgan since she was one and it would sound odd if a one-year-old delighted in being let into secrets. “When we left the cab, she was laughing about how the driver didn’t know what he just missed.” Tony glanced at Peter to see a huge smile on the boy’s face—probably the most genuine happiness he saw from the kid since yesterday. His throat knotted briefly before he cleared it. “Uh, anyway. Where am I supposed to go again?”

“Right. You already know.” Tony arched his brow as he noticed that Peter’s smile tightened. “To your Boston house. I’ve… Uh, I found a way to use it for something.”

* * *

There was nothing…house-y left in Tony’s Boston house. It had never been one of his biggest properties, as it was only gifted to him by his father when he studied at MIT. It was a simple one-story house with a spacious living room, a kitchen, a tiny garden, and a large enough basement that Tony turned into a game room in college. From outside, the house didn’t change much. Even the garage, though much messier than he remembered, looked about the same. But the moment Peter unlocked the front door and let Tony in, instead of facing the familiar black couches and wood drawers, Tony walked into almost an exact replica of his lab in the Avengers Tower. His brows climbed into his forehead as he took in everything—the holographic monitors resting in the middle of the room on his worktable, the floor littered with all kinds of remote controls and mechanical equipment, papers lining every empty table surface, and of course, his set of old Iron Man suits displayed on the far end wall, each peppered with multicolored sticky notes. From this far, he couldn’t read what they were about, and he was too shocked to approach them anyway.

“I needed a place to work,” Peter explained quietly. He stood next to Tony, fiddling with his fingers. “The apartment was a no go because Morgan is curious. She almost dropped one of your suits on herself when we were back in your New York house. So I renovated the place before moving here. For, uh, Stark Industries stuff, and some personal projects—oh, and I brought something. I thought you’d enjoy this.” Peter disappeared into what Tony remembered to be the kitchen briefly and came back with a robot following him. Tony instantly recognized DUM-E, who was beeping at Peter happily, carrying a fire extinguisher with him. Peter smiled at the robot. “I got him from your old place. Made the lab seem a bit less lonely, even though he’s just a robot.”

_Yeah, kid,_ Tony thought. There was a time DUM-E was his only companion in the lab, as well. _I know what you’re talking about._

Tony patted DUM-E on its claw when the robot made its way to him and earned a few grateful beeps.

“And there’s something else,” Peter piped in, stepping in front of the holographic monitors. He pressed a few keys and they came to life, with a very familiar voice speaking through the speakers.

“Good morning, Peter.” Tony’s heart leapt as he looked up, his hand frozen on DUM-E’s claw. The voice continued smoothly, seemingly unaware of the shock that just overtook Tony. “Welcome back, sir.”

“JARVIS?” Tony choked out. After Ultron, Tony never once thought he would hear the AI in his workshop again. It took a while for him to get used to FRIDAY, yet JARVIS always held a special place in his heart.

“I found him while I was going through your stuff,” Peter explained softly, his eyes bright and his smile wide. “He was broken and damaged, code all over the place, I couldn’t even make sense of it first. I know I never met the AI myself but I knew how much you missed him so… Guess I wanted to have a part of you with me. He was my personal project. It’s still not perfect but I wrote a program so that it fixes most of the problems itself now.”

“You did this?” Tony couldn’t stop his voice from shaking. He was sure he heard a brief chuckle from JARVIS.

“Yes, sir,” the AI piped in. “You picked a worthy heir for Stark Industries.”

Oh, didn’t Tony already know that. But still… “I looked at the code,” he tried to explain, his eyes fixed on the schematics on the holographic monitors. He realized the one on the right showed JARVIS’s code and software, running in real time, catching and filing the errors it found. “It looked impossible. If I had any idea that it would work…”

“It took me a while.” Peter glanced at the monitor briefly. “And a lot of swearing. JARVIS apparently heard it all, though, even though he was broken. He chided me quite a bit about it when I managed to turn him on the first time.”

Tony laughed—the first genuine, hearty laugh that left his lips in the last few days, including the time heist. He could imagine JARVIS giving a young Peter a piece of his mind about swearing, as he sometimes chided Tony for his colorful language or colorful…projects.

“Kid—you’re a genius.” Peter’s face brightened up with the compliment, even though Tony thought he really shouldn’t need it. Damn, fixing JARVIS? Bringing him back out of that mess of a software? Even some of the best software engineers and computer scientists at S.I. balked at the work, yet a young kid, barely an adult, managed to show them up. “I can’t even begin to imagine how you _tamed_ that code.”

“Well, it was actually a project with my freshman year CS professor.” Peter shrugged, even though it was obvious just how proud he was of his achievement. “I showed him the code and asked him if it was possible to fix it. He said it was impossible, but that he would give me an A+ if I did it by the end of the term. Even if I didn’t turn in any of my homework or attended any of the classes.” A grin pulled his lips. “It was possibly the only A+ I got without putting any work into the class itself.”

Tony, for the first time that day, felt like he was seeing a glimpse of the old Peter—the one he knew from before the snap, the overexcited high schooler who had a knack for computer science and engineering, who designed his own web-fluid before even meeting Tony, who could ramble on and on about his projects and his progress for hours. Standing in the middle of the makeshift lab—not that the lab looked _makeshift_ at all; in fact, if Peter didn’t explain it, he would’ve guessed he had professional help building this place—with his light curls falling on his forehead, his gleaming brown eyes on the monitors, his fingers wriggling in front of him non-stop as if he ached to work on something, Peter looked nothing more than the happy-go-lucky teenager, unburdened by the responsibility of taking care of a child and helping the word after the snap.

He offered the kid a wide smile when Peter turned to him. “Not that I didn’t spend hours upon hours trying to fix JARVIS,” he pointed out, running a hand through his hair. “Probably more time than I spend on any other class, really.”

“Yeah, I can imagine.” Tony walked up to the monitors, DUM-E close on his heels, and next to the schematics for a new S.I. product—Tony noticed it looked a lot like a bionic leg—he noticed what looked like a holographic notice board, shrunk and tucked at the corner of the screen. Without thinking, he pressed on it.

The notice board—that wasn’t even a notice board, really; it reminded Tony more of crime-scene boards from one of those shitty CSI shows that knew nothing about actual crime solving—popped up and expanded around Tony, creating a 360 holographic wall around him. The wall was filled with papers, articles, notes written in Peter’s shabby handwriting, pictures…everything. A large part of the wall was covered in information about infinity stones—photographs with virtual post-its stuck on them, noting information about each stone, what it did, how it worked, danger level, known appearances… Tony winced when his eyes fell on the soul stone. It was the one covered in the least amount of information, a bunch of post-its with question marks tucked on the photo.

Taking his eyes off of the infinity stones, Tony looked around, his eyes facing on another part of the wall. **HOW TO FIX THE SNAP?** Peter wrote on a large paper and around it were possible solutions, all with multiple arrows leaving from them, pointing at relevant information. They were ranked in likelihood of success, from “Earth would blow over before it succeeded” to “not totally out of the realm of possibilities”, and danger, from “we might as well kill ourselves” to “maybe half of us will survive”.

Tony’s eyes skimmed the possibilities Peter came up with, reading the notes underneath them. _Find Thanos, get the stones from him and use them._ It was the solution Peter ranked as one of the most dangerous, but most likely to work, except the solution was crossed out with a red note underneath: “Thanos destroyed the stones. Strange killed him.”

In fact, Tony noticed, most of the solutions were crossed out for one reason or another. Peter obviously gave up on “trying to remake the stones” or “figuring out where people went and bring them back” pretty quickly, as those had the least notes and writing on them. Some other possibilities, like “find if there are other infinity stones” wasn’t crossed out, but Peter didn’t spend much time on them either. In fact, there were only two that Tony realized the kid worked hard on, as half the space allotted to the section was covered in notes on them. “Get stones from an alternate universe” and “Travel to the past to get the stones”.

Tony’s eyes were locked onto the second one. Peter ranked its success rate closer to the bottom, and for danger, he just wrote in a large question mark. That wasn’t even what piqued Tony’s interest, though.

It was the fact that the kid even thought about it in the first place—that he, barely an adult, came up with a viable solution when in Tony’s version of the events, no one even thought about it until Scott Lang stumbled into the Avengers Facility.

“I was looking for ways to reverse the snap,” Peter explained quietly as he stepped next to Tony. He obviously didn’t mind that Tony found his notes. In fact, Tony suspected this was the exact reason Peter brought him here in the first place. “Stephen said it was impossible but I couldn’t… I lost everything because of Thanos. I couldn’t just give up.” Peter’s eyes were filled with silent tears as he stared at the wall, keeping his eyes away from Tony on purpose.

Tony wondered briefly what exactly “everything” encompassed. Most of the Avengers, for sure, but what about the rest? May? Probably gone, too, as May would never in a million years leave Peter to take care of Morgan on his own. That legend of a woman would’ve probably adopted Morgan if she was here.

What about his school friends? Ned and MJ? Tony didn’t remember seeing a recent photo of them in Peter’s house.

Did that mean that with one fell swoop, not only Peter lost all the adult figures in his life—except Bruce, apparently, but Tony had seen how that turned out, with the man abandoning Peter and Morgan because he was a fucking coward—he also lost all his closest friends? Did Thanos really take _everything_ from his kids?

Tony wondered whether this was some sort of twisted revenge Thanos concocted after surviving somehow, if Thanos came back to snap and got his revenge because Tony snapped away his army? Otherwise, Tony didn’t know how this hellish timeline would even come into being. _My worst nightmare,_ he thought briefly.

“Did you do all this?” Tony asked Peter when he couldn’t come up with anything else to say. He vaguely gestured at the wall.

“Yeah. No one thought it would go anywhere. They all believed…” Peter gulped and turned to Tony. “But I knew it. I knew I wasn’t just chasing the impossible. There’s a way to reverse this, isn’t there? If you’re here, then that means we can reverse the snap.”

Peter looked so hopeful that Tony wished with all of his heart that he actually knew how to reverse the snap—well, outside of the time heist. That he actually had an answer other than “this isn’t the world I remember”.

“Tony?” Peter whispered with a crack in his voice. Hopelessness tugged at Tony. Running a hand over his face, he turned to his kid, trying to ignore the wide, hopeful eyes. It was even worse that Peter called him by his first name now—it all felt more personal, closer to his heart, nearer to where it would hurt the most.

“Kid, I wish I could help, but I don’t know how I came back from your version of the snap,” Tony admitted, watching Peter’s reaction. The kid’s brows furrowed. He stood a bit straighter and faced Tony.

_“My_ version of the snap?”

_Yeah, about that…_ “I think it’s time we talk, Peter.”


	7. Power Siblings

To his credit, Peter absorbed the shitload of craziness Tony just dumped on him relatively well. Meaning, at least, that he listened till the end without interrupting and while his eyes were blank and he was swaying slightly on his seat, he wasn’t claiming Tony was making it up or didn’t try to attack the man yet.

“Peter?” Tony murmured, leaning forward in his chair to look at Peter’s face. Peter’s eyes snapped up, searching the man’s face all over again for a sign of a joke. It was clear that he still expected Tony to bust out a grin and say “Gotcha!” Tony rubbed his forehead with a sigh. “Look, I know all of this sounds crazy.”

“Yeah,” Peter choked out, his voice thin. “You could, uh, say _that_.” He clasped his chair tightly and stared at Tony for a few, uncomfortable seconds before he continued. “So in your version of…Thanos… You survived the snap. But I…didn’t.” Tony winced but offered Peter a curt nod. “And five years later, you and the leftover Avengers went _back in time_ to get the stones because Thanos destroyed them and then used them to snap everyone back.”

“Pretty much.” Tony rubbed the nape of his neck. “Well, I mean, other than Thanos coming back from the past and—”

“And forcing _you_ to snap this time,” Peter finished. “To destroy his army.” Tony’s throat knotted. _That was the plan, at least,_ he thought. _But it seems like I failed._

Peter’s shoulders slumped. “I don’t understand,” he whispered, his brows furrowed. “I mean, if you snapped to dust Thanos and you _think_ you succeeded”—Tony told the kid that he clearly remembered Thanos dusting away—“then why are we here? How did Thanos change the past if he was dead?”

Tony didn’t miss how Peter completely dismissed the idea that this…timeline might be the result of Tony’s snap and not whatever Thanos did. A part of Tony didn’t want to fight that assumption—he’d just got his kids back, and yes, this situation was far from ideal and so different than he remembered but he… If Peter’s loving and hopeful eyes filled with disappointment and hatred, Tony didn’t know if he could take it.

And yet, if they wanted to get to the bottom of this… “Kid, how can you be sure Thanos did it? If he’s gone and this happened right after I snapped—”

“You couldn’t have done it.” Peter’s answer was immediate. Tony arched a brow. “If all you asked for from the stones was destroying Thanos’s army, that’s what the stones would do. You would never have asked for…” The kid’s voice faltered briefly, but then he locked eyes with Tony with a newfound fervor. “You love Morgan and you love me. You would’ve never asked this from us. It _has to be_ Thanos, one way or another.” Tony must’ve still seemed unsure because Peter sighed and gestured at the board behind him, filled with all kinds of notes and information about infinity stones. “I researched the stones, remember?”

At least some of the anxiety that was built up in Tony’s stomach relaxed. He was scared that Peter would put the blame on _him_ for trying to snap Thanos’s army away when really, he knew the bare minimum about the infinity stones and how they worked.

“When did you become an expert in magical mumbo jumbo?” he asked, quirking a brow. One side of Peter’s lips curled up briefly.

“Stephen helped me with it. I know how the stones work. They’re not gonna magically rewrite the entire timeline unless you ask them to.”

“Well, first of all, that’s good to know.” That was a weight off of Tony’s shoulders. “Second of all, since when do you call Caped Crusader by his first name?” Even though Peter chuckled at the nickname, a blush crept up his cheek. He rubbed the nape of his neck.

“Before we learned that Thanos destroyed the stones, I was hunting him. You know, to get the stones and reverse this thing. And, uh, Stephen helped me with it, even though he thought it was a futile effort.” Peter laughed for a second and cast his eyes down. “I think he just pitied me, you know. This teenager who lost everything because of Thanos and was now left to take care of an orphan girl.”

Peter tried to sound sarcastic, but his words weren’t thick enough to mask his pain. _Even Strange abandoned him,_ he thought briefly. Strange, the guy who had Thor knew how many sorcerers working for him, who lived in a giant ass mansion with enough food and resources to take care of two _kids,_ didn’t think to take Morgan or Peter in. Oh, Tony would have _words_ with both him and Bruce when he saw them.

But beyond that, his mind flashed back to what Strange said before Thanos came and everything went downhill—before the initial snap. He looked into more than fourteen million futures—fourteen million possible scenarios—and concluded that only one led to their victory.

One victory in a world where Thanos’s initial snap left just the right people to save the universe. Scott Lang, who gave them the idea of the time heist in the first place, miraculously surviving thanks to the quantum realm and coming out of it by sheer luck. Bruce Banner, who had the perfect body chemistry to be able to snap and survive. Natasha Romanoff, who saw the Avengers as her only family and wouldn’t even hesitate to lay down her life to save them. Everyone who participated in the time heist and brought back the infinity stones. And…

Himself. _Tony Stark._ He was the one that figured out how to travel in time safely, and he was the one that ultimately snapped to get rid of Thanos forever. He could imagine that without any of those pieces, the plan would fall apart. Strange would immediately know, once he saw the result of the snap, that they lost.

Tony looked up at Peter, who was watching him with a hopeful expression. His insides twisted. He didn’t want to tell Peter that there was no hope of reversing the snap—he didn’t want to believe it _himself._ Yet, if Strange was to be believed, was there really a way out?

“Kid, if Strange thinks it’s futile—” But Peter dismissed him with a shake of his head.

“Strange thought it was futile only because _you_ were gone.” _Me?_ Tony arched a brow. There were a lot more people who helped with the time heist who were probably essential to its success. “He said you were our only hope. He wouldn’t explain why, but if you’re here now, it should be possible to reverse the snap, right?”

_Oh boy._ Tony’s face twisted and he knew his desperation was showing. Peter faltered, the hopeful smile slipping off of his face briefly. “Right?” Peter tried to catch Tony’s eyes

_I don’t know, kid._ Tony put on his most convincing smile. “Right, of course.” He released a harsh breath and carded his fingers through his hair. “I think it’s time we have a talk with our one and only sorcerer, huh?”

* * *

**Five Years Ago**

_Peter stopped the car in the parking lot of the orphanage after awkwardly parking it literally in the middle of two parking spots. It had been about a week since he got his license—he had no idea how he actually passed the test, but whatever—and he felt no better at driving than the first time he sat in front of the wheel._

If I had a father to actually teach me…

_He quickly dismissed that thought as his stomach coiled. His eyes flickered to Morgan, strapped to a baby seat on the back of the car. The car Peter apparently inherited from Tony, meaning it was about a hundred times more expensive than anything he could afford._

_Well, he would’ve been able to afford before Thanos. Now, buying this car would barely create a blip in his bank account, which now held billions of dollars—the combined cash that he and Morgan inherited. Bruce refused to even touch a dollar of that and transferred it to Peter’s bank account the moment he got the chance._

_Peter would’ve objected—did object, in fact—but there was no convincing Bruce. Besides, after dealing with Peter and Morgan’s finances, the man basically disappeared into thin air. Peter called him multiple times every single day, yet all his calls went to voicemail._

_Bruce was hiding from them, he knew. He didn’t want to take care of either Morgan or Peter, and Peter wouldn’t have blamed him for it, really, but that meant_ Peter _had to shoulder the full responsibility of taking care of a ten-month-old baby._

_“Dada?” Morgan’s voice took him out of his thoughts. The girl had the Iron Man plush in her hand and was waving it to Peter. She then pointed outside, and then turned back to the boy._

_Peter wanted to throw up. Clearing his throat, he shook his head. “I told you, Morgan,” he said, his voice barely louder than a whisper. With his stomach knotted and throat clogged, it was a wonder that he was able to talk at all. “Dad’s gone. Mom’s gone. It’s just…”_

It’s just you and me now, _he was about to say when he clamped his mouth shut. It wouldn’t be the two of them soon, would it? That was why they were here, at the orphanage. He would drop Morgan off and follow the adoption process, but he just… He couldn’t take care of her anymore. It was all good when he had nothing to do, but his school was starting soon. What was he supposed to do with Morgan when he went to school? He exhausted every option, and each of them proved to be a dead end: Bruce refused to take Morgan in, afraid that he would Hulk out on her and hurt the baby. Strange found the presence of a baby in the Sanctrum incredibly dangerous and distracting and didn’t think he’d be a good babysitter anyway. The Guardians—at least Peter and Nebula, the two of them that were left alive—were in space and Peter wouldn’t trust them with Morgan anyway. All the other Avengers were dead, May was dead, and Peter was officially out of adult figures to give Morgan to._

_The next option was to hire a babysitter, but at the state of things, he just couldn’t find one that he trusted. People lost their loved ones and their jobs and were_ desperate. _Peter didn’t trust any of the babysitters he interviewed with Morgan, a literal billion-dollar baby. He’d be mad to leave them alone with the girl to go to school._

You’re leaving her alone at the orphanage, though, _a voice piped in, but Peter quickly dismissed it. He wasn’t exactly leaving her alone. He would make sure she was adopted by a loving family—besides, they’d probably be much better parents to Morgan than he could ever hope to be. He was just a teenager—how was he supposed to take care of a baby._

_“You know I have to do this, right?” Peter whispered, more to himself than Morgan as he watched the girl lean forward, hugging the Iron Man plush. “I’m just… I’m just a kid. I can’t take care of you. And we’ll find you a good family. They’ll love you just like…”_

_The next words stuck at Peter’s throat. He didn’t think anyone could love Morgan just as much as Tony and Pepper did._

_“I can’t be your guardian, Morgan,” he sputtered instead, clasping the steering wheel tightly. His vision was blurry because of his tears and his nails dug into his palms. How long had it been since he cut them? He didn’t even know. He was at least sure he cut Morgan’s a week ago—he kept a tight schedule for that, as the girl was prone to scratching anything including her own skin and he didn’t want her to hurt herself accidentally. “I’m not even family. I’m not Mr. Stark’s son. I’m just a kid from Queens. I’m not…” He shut his eyes, trying to shake away his tears. “I’m not who he wanted me to be,” he whispered finally, staring at the steering wheel and the distorted reflection of his face on the silver Mercedes logo._

_Mr. Stark would hate him for this. Peter knew it. He would never,_ ever _want his kid to end up in an orphanage. He wouldn’t want her to be in the system, being juggled between foster parents who didn’t care for her beyond her money. He would want her to be with someone who truly cared about her, who could make her happy and give her the life she deserved._

_Peter definitely qualified for the first—he loved Morgan as someone would love a sister—but he knew he just…wasn’t enough. What would happen when school actually started? Would he leave Morgan alone at home? Would he take her with him? How would that even work? Then there was college—he had essays to write, applications to fill out. How was he supposed to do all of that with a baby by his side?_

_What about Morgan? The kid deserved parents that could give her their full attention, and that was obviously not Peter. Between school, studying, exams, and college applications, it would be a miracle if Peter spent more than two hours with Morgan a day. He just couldn’t put Morgan through that. The girl deserved much better than him._

_“This is for the best,” Peter whispered, finally letting go of the steering wheel. “We’ll find you a good family, and you’ll be happy, Morgan. So happy. I promise.” Before unlocking the door, he turned back to look at Morgan again. Her wide, brown eyes were curiously watching Peter, not even crying, as if she was completely unaware that Peter was about to abandon her._

Liar, _a voice whispered in Peter’s mind. Morgan would never end up with a loving family. Parents would see the ten figure number that came with Morgan and would paint a pretty picture to adopt the kid. She wouldn’t be a girl in their eyes—it would all be about the money._

_The boat of lies Peter so desperately tried to keep afloat started to fill up with water. Tears spilled down his cheeks yet again and all the comforting words he meant to tell Morgan, all the encouragements of finding a loving family and being happy, died on his tongue. The truth of the matter was that Morgan was the safest he could be with him—not only because he was Spider-Man and could physically protect the girl, but he also didn’t care one bit about Morgan’s money. He barely even cared that Tony Stark left him a fortune, other than the fact that he at least didn’t have to worry about getting a job on top of taking care of Morgan. He loved the girl so much and he knew, in this situation, he was the best person to take care of her._

_A teenager, and he was the best choice Morgan had. What kind of a twisted, cruel world they lived in?_

_Peter couldn’t bear to look at Morgan anymore. He turned forward, pressing his forehead roughly against the steering wheel. Silent sobs racked his body as guilt and hatred churned in his stomach, almost making him sick._

_He almost abandoned Morgan in the hands of cruel, money-hungry foster care system. He almost abandoned Tony’s little girl to be taken advantage of for her money. What would Tony think of him now? He would surely think twice about leaving half his fortune, as well as S.I. and the Avengers initiative to Peter if he knew this would be the result. Was he watching Peter from some sort of heaven and second-guessing his choice?_

_“Dada?” Morgan’s voice took Peter out of his thoughts again. He straightened up and was just about to tell Morgan his dad wasn’t coming that he stopped. Morgan, for the first time, wasn’t looking around when she called for his dad. She was looking at Peter, curious as ever, her bright brown eyes unaware of the vicious hands Peter almost left her in. Taking deep breaths, Peter tried to calm his breaths._

_“Yeah, Dad’s here, Morgan,” he whispered with a newfound determination and buckled his seatbelt again. He offered the girl a wet smile. “And we’re going home.”_

* * *

As it turned out, Peter and Tony didn’t have time to give Strange a visit. It was already 2:30 pm by the time they left Peter’s makeshift lab and Morgan’s school ended merely an hour later. When Tony found out about that little fact, he absolutely refused to leave his kid alone in the school—not that Peter complained; he pretty much let Tony drag him to the primary school to pick Morgan up.

That was how they ended here, in a small café right by the school, filling their stomachs after the emotionally exhausting day. Tony ordered coffees for him and Peter and orange juice for Morgan, and all of them had sandwiches in front of them.

“So,” Tony started after he swallowed the large bite he took from his sandwich. “Maguna?”

“Hm?” Morgan hummed, lifting her head from the book she was reading. It was a collection of Grimm’s fairytales for children, which she got from the school library. Apparently, the girl loved reading—obviously, as she seemed kind of annoyed that Tony distracted her from it.

“Enjoying the book?” he asked, gesturing at it. Morgan seemed to be reading Cinderella, if the illustration of a blonde girl in a blue dress was any indication.

“Yep,” Morgan murmured, shooting Tony a toothy grin. “Miss Kathy gave it to me. That’s my teacher. We’re supposed to learn how to read and write but since I know it, she lets me read in class. It’s pretty fun.”

With that, Morgan’s attention turned back to the fairytale, her tiny braids bouncing on her shoulders. Tony smiled at Morgan’s enthusiasm and wasn’t surprised in the least that she learned how to read and write before her peers did.

“So, a six-year-old knows how to read and write,” he pointed out, arching a brow. Peter stopped picking at his sandwich—Tony noticed he didn’t even take a bite yet—and glanced up at Tony. A soft blush dusted on his cheeks.

“Uh, I taught her,” he explained with a shrug, looking away quickly. “She loves stories and fantasy and I wasn’t always, uh, free to read to her.” He kept his eyes on the sandwich, pretending that he was trying to pick off a pickle. As much as he tried to hide his guilt, Peter always wore his heart on his sleeve and Tony easily spotted the furrowed brows and tightened lips.

God Peter was so selfless. Did he really feel bad that he didn’t have enough time to read to Morgan? It wasn’t as if he left the girl to her own devices. He taught her how to read, and Morgan clearly enjoyed it too. He found a perfect solution to his problem and even helped Morgan with her education in the first place.

“Miss Kathy must be really proud of her,” Tony pointed out, sipping his coffee loudly. Peter’s shoulders tightened but he only spared a glance. “And it seems like she enjoys reading, too. Right, Maguna?”

“Uh-huh,” Morgan muttered, only briefly looking up from her book. “Not the stuff Petey reads, though. He showed it to me once and it’s so little and there are no pictures, just a lot of weird symbols.” Tony chuckled and was delighted to see that it at least earned a smile from Peter, too. He wrapped his hands around his coffee cup.

“I told you, Morgan, I was reading for college. It’s not a fictional book.”

“Still. _Boring,”_ Morgan argued, rolling her eyes. “Why do you even go to college if that’s all you’re doing?”

Tony almost spurted out his coffee at Morgan’s statement, his brows climbing to his forehead. His daughter sounded almost _smug,_ as if she got to read all the cool stuff while Peter had to deal with boring college stuff. Peter, on the other hand, just had a smile on his face. His eyes flickered to Tony when Morgan’s attention turned back to her book.

“We have ‘reading’ sessions every night, an hour before bed. More often than not I use it to study, so…” He shrugged and turned back to his sandwich, _finally_ taking a bite. Tony was honestly worried that Peter wasn’t hungry even though it’d been hours since they ate anything.

“You know, Pete,” he said, leaning back on his seat. “Gotta agree with Morgan here. Why are you doing all that boring, college stuff? Seems _so_ unnecessary.”

“Says the guy who graduated college at, like, seventeen.” Peter shot an exasperated look at Tony. “And I remember you talking _at length_ about why I should definitely go to MIT for college. They even call me _Mini Stark_ there because for some reason everyone thinks I’m your long-lost child now.”

The despicable _Buzfeed_ article Tony read just that morning popped into his mind just as Peter’s words seemed to have caught up with the boy. The kid’s eyes bulged out and the sandwich fell onto the plate with a plop, falling apart easily in the middle. Tony arched a brow and tried to keep his lips from twitching into a smile.

“I mean, not that I said anything! It’s just—the news about your will got out, _somehow,_ and then there were all these articles about how you took me in as your personal intern and you know how that sounds when you don’t know about my, uh, other identity… Then there was the recommendation letter and there was no stopping—”

“The recommendation letter?” Tony interrupted, arching a brow. Could it be… He remembered working on one before Thanos happened, even had multiple versions saved on his laptop. Did Peter find them?

“Your letter.” Peter was outright blushing now, picking at the bread of his sandwich. “I found it on your computer. I didn’t think you’d mind… Anyway, now people think I’m your son and with me taking care of Morgan…” His voice trailed off as his eyes turned to the girl. Fortunately, she was too distracted to listen. “I was going to tell her that we’re not actually related. I just…didn’t have the heart to do it. She thinks we’re power siblings and pretty proud of it.” Peter shuffled on his seat, keeping his gaze firmly on his sandwich. Tony tried to fight his smile off. It seemed obvious that Peter completely forgot about calling Tony “dad” yesterday, or the fact that Tony literally called the boy Morgan’s _brother_ just hours earlier. Did Peter think Tony said it just as an encouragement?

“I mean,” Tony started, picking his words carefully. The old him—before Thanos ever happened—would’ve been too scared to admit it, even to himself, yet he’d had five years to reflect on his relationship with Peter and regretted ever since that he didn’t take in the boy as a son when he had the chance. “Power siblings sound kind of badass to me.”

Peter’s eyes flickered up to Tony, slightly wider than before. Tony offered him a genuine smile. “Kid, Morgan’s not the only one who thinks of you as family, and I’m the last one who’ll complain about you being a Stark.” A part of Tony wished Peter was still the seventeen-year-old from five years ago, now that he found the courage to actually adopt the kid into the family. Not that it mattered much—it would only make what he felt official. Peter might be much older than he remembered—an adult in his own right juggling college, a tech company, and taking care of little Morgan at the same time—but Tony still saw the kid as a son and would work his ass off to make Peter the happiest he can be.

“You mean it?” Peter’s whisper cut through Tony’s thoughts. The kid, with hands wrapped tightly around the coffee cup and eyes wide as saucers, was staring at Tony as if he just found water in the middle of a desert. Tony nodded, a painful smile on his lips.

“Sorry I never got to tell you before, kid. But it seems you figured out on your own anyway.” Tony followed Peter’s eyes as they turned to Morgan and it was easy to see the brotherly love on his face. A blush dusted Peter’s cheeks.

“Yeah. I guess.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> to be completely honest, that flashback scene might've been one of the hardest scenes i've ever written. it's so heart-wrenching whenever i write a flashback because i am like three years older than Peter was when Thanos snapped, and i just couldn't imagine if, say, i was the only person left to take care of my cousin, who's still just a little kid. i don't even know what i would've done in that situation.
> 
> but anyway, hope you liked this chapter! i promise, things will start unraveling soon, but i do want to have some family moments in between because Tony-Peter-Morgan dynamic is so interesting to me, since we haven't seen it at all in the movies. also, to be honest, even i need fluff in the middle of all the angst.


	8. The Mess of His Own Making

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the late update! just got my wisdom teeth removed and i've been tired all week, so i didn't get to write much. but anyway, hope you enjoy this chapter! things will definitely kick up a notch after this one :)

Tony was halfway through making his second stack of pancakes when Peter’s bedroom door opened. The boy stepped out, wearing navy-blue sweats and a loose t-shirt with a large caffeine molecule on it. His hair fell down on his forehead in a mess of curls and his lids were drooping on his eyes, as if it was a struggle to keep his eyes open.

“Morning,” he mumbled to Tony before he made his way to the bathroom. Tony chuckled and shook his head. Yeah, whatever had changed with Peter in the last five years, it was fair to say he still struggled to wake up early. Whenever he stayed with Tony, the man had to knock on Peter’s door at least five times before the kid even got out of his bed and Happy always grunted about how he had to break about ten speeding laws to get Peter to school on time.

Five minutes later, Peter left the bathroom freshened up, droplets hanging from his hair as he made his way over to the kitchen. “Feeling more awake?” Tony asked, smiling when Peter shot him a glare. With a wide yawn, he beelined to the coffee machine and poured himself a large cup.

“You don’t get to make fun of me for struggling to”—he had to stop when another yawn interrupted him—“wake up. I remember how you slept after your famous all-nighters.”

“Hey, at least I didn’t sleep through any meetings.”

“Because you didn’t bother _going_ to them.” Tony opened his mouth to argue but stopped when he saw Peter’s arched brow. Yeah…yeah, the kid was right. To Pepper’s dismay, Tony missed 95% of S.I. meetings and only attended when he _happened_ to be at the headquarters and _happened_ to have nothing better to do. Which…wasn’t that often, really. Those meetings usually made Tony want to gouge out his eyes.

“Touché. But I’m glad to see you’ve discovered the wonders of coffee. I thought you swore off of it after that day—”

“I thought we _didn’t_ talk about that day.” Tony chuckled at Peter’s reddened cheeks. How could he forget that one day Peter downed two cups of coffee because he didn’t sleep well and he had finals, and spend the entire day _and night_ feeling jittery and hyperactive, and then crashing so hard in the morning that he slept for a solid 16 hours? Who knew his spider physiology enhanced the effects of caffeine?

No surprise that Pepper lectured him for about ten minutes when she came home and found Peter crawling on the ceiling while trying to not spill his milkshake and talking about how he would be the _best_ delivery guy if he ever took up that job.

“Besides, I figured out if I’m already too tired when I drink my coffee, it doesn’t send me into a frenzy.” Peter just shrugged as if it was normal—and thinking about it, Tony could imagine a number of teenagers _and_ adults saying the exact same thing, yet his heart ached. Before Thanos, Peter never had a reason to be _so tired_ that he needed coffee to function. That was what Tony did, not his kid.

“Does sugar send you into a frenzy?” he asked, gesturing at the pancakes. He didn’t want to ponder more on Peter’s caffeine habits. “Because I kind of counted on your heightened metabolism when I made two stacks of pancakes.”

The corners of Peter’s eyes crinkled when he smiled. “Thanks, Dad,” he murmured, moving to take a seat on the table. Tony, smiling as he poured himself a cup of coffee too, could pinpoint the exact moment Peter processed what he exactly said. The boy froze midway to the table and spun around, his eyes wide.

“You know that’s not the first time you called me dad, right?” he quipped, setting his cup down on the counter. Peter blinked several times and frowned, as if trying to remember when _exactly_ that happened. Tony continued, realizing Peter wasn’t going to say something, even though he opened and closed his mouth like a bubble fish several times. “Kid, I told you yesterday. I see you as family. I don’t mind you calling me dad, if that’s what you feel like.”

Tony didn’t even realize he was holding his breath until Peter looked up at him with twinkling eyes. “Yeah, I… I’d like that.” His shoulders slightly sagged with relief and he mirrored Peter’s smile. Before he could say anything, though, Peter’s alarm sounded. He checked the clock and his eyes widened.

“Shit. I gotta wake Morgan.”

“Language!” Tony called after him as Peter set his cup down on the table, spilling some of it, and rushed to the bedroom. He could almost feel the kid roll his eyes.

“And here I thought you’d be the cool dad!” Peter yelled back. Tony arched his brow as the kid disappeared into Morgan’s room, and barked out a loud laugh.

* * *

Peter was jittery as he texted Stephen. They just dropped Morgan off at school—begrudgingly, as the girl wanted to join in on their “adventures” and only agreed to go when Tony told him they’d be doing college stuff—and left for Peter’s lab. He texted Stephen to meet them at 9 p.m., which was quickly approaching, even though Peter had no idea whether Stephen actually got the text or not.

He would’ve called the man but the few times he did, Stephen was unreachable. Considering just how often he went to whatever realms sorcerers traveled to, text was a surer way to reach him. Even though Strange sometimes ignored those as well.

“Kid.” Tony rolled his chair next to Peter and put a hand on the kid’s knee. Peter didn’t even realize he was shaking his leg. “What’s going on in that brilliant mind of yours?”

Peter blushed at the compliment. “I’m just…” Frowning, he debated just how much he should tell Tony about what he’d been thinking. “What you said about your version of events. I was just wondering if it would be possible for us to do it.”

“My version?”

“You know. Time travel. Time heist?” Peter glanced up at Tony to ensure he got the term right. “I thought about it, too. I mean…” He vaguely gestured behind him, to the hologram that was still up. The time travel section seemed way too small to Peter after he found out that it somehow _actually_ worked. “You figured it out, obviously. And you made it work.”

“’Made it work’ is kind of a loose term,” Tony argued. His shoulders were taut and while his voice still had that hint of sarcasm it usually did, Peter thought it sounded just a bit quieter. “We kind of botched most of it and almost ended the world a second time. I don’t necessarily want a repeat of that.”

“And you want to live in _this_ version of events?” Peter hated that his voice cracked at the end. He didn’t know what he expected to see on Tony’s face when he looked up, but desperation definitely wasn’t it. The man looked paler and more tired than Peter remembered, and for the first time Peter thought he looked his age.

Another Peter might’ve shut up and just accepted what Tony thought was clearly impossible, yet that happy-go-lucky kid that believed in every word that left Tony’s mouth died five years ago. And _this_ Peter was sick of living in a world where he lost every single person he cared about.

“When Thanos snapped in your world, you didn’t lose everything. You still had Pepper and Morgan, you still had Rhodey, you still had the Avengers. You weren’t suddenly left alone in a dystopian world with a one-year-old to take care of.” Peter furiously wiped his cheeks and tried to blink away the tears. Yet he didn’t look away from Tony. He wanted the man to see just how _desperate_ he was to have someone, _anyone_ there with him. Just how desperate he was to get back the people he loved and _end this nightmare._ “Thanos took everything from me. You have no idea what that’s like.”

“Pete—”

“You have no _idea_!” Peter’s yell echoed around the lab. He didn’t even feel guilty when Tony flinched. “So don’t tell me you don’t want to try it again because it’s too _dangerous._ Yeah, it might end the world all over again, but it’d be worth it. Getting everyone back would be worth that risk.” Peter clasped the arms of his chair, feeling the metal bend under his grip, and took several breaths to calm himself down. He didn’t want to cry in front of Tony. Not now when Stephen was about to arrive and maybe _he_ might convince Tony to go through with the time heist. Maybe this was what Stephen was talking about—that Tony would eventually come back with _answers_ and be their salvation.

“I didn’t say it was impossible, Peter,” Tony whispered after a moment of silence, rolling his chair so that he was right in front of the kid. For some reason, Peter thought there was something the man was hiding from him. Something important that happened during the time heist that Tony didn’t want to risk again. Yet Peter just couldn’t imagine _what_ could’ve happened that made Tony think twice. What could be worse than how the world was right now? “I just want you to consider what you’re risking here. If something goes wrong, you might lose everything you built here with Morgan. Lose a sister that looks up to you and loves you—”

“Yeah, as if she wouldn’t have hated me if she knew I almost left her at an orphanage.” Peter clamped a hand over his mouth, but he wasn’t fast enough to stop the words from leaving. Tony looked absolutely gobsmacked, his chair rolling back a couple of inches. Peter shut his eyes tightly.

Yeah, now he _definitely_ botched it, probably destroying the strong teenager image he somehow built in Tony’s mind. That teenager would’ve never even considered abandoning Morgan, no matter how much he struggled. Peter just…wasn’t that person.

Peter cleared his throat when Tony didn’t say anything and stood up so fast that his chair rolled all the way back and hit his desk with a harsh clank. “I…” he choked out, his voice hoarse, looking anywhere but Tony. “I’ll go make some coffee.” He spun around to make his way to the kitchen, feeling dizzier by the second. It was a miracle that he was able to walk straight, even, when black dots started appearing in front of his vision.

How could he have told Tony about his biggest regret? How could he have told Tony that he pretty much thought about abandoning Morgan in the hands of a money-hungry system and a cycle of foster parents that would be more interested in Morgan’s money than the girl herself? He never told anyone, not Stephen, not Bruce, _definitely_ not Morgan. And yet he’d blurted it out to Tony two days after the man came back.

A mess, that was what he was. He’d been able to keep it inside for the last five years for Morgan’s sake, but with Tony’s arrival, he let go. He thought he wasn’t alone anymore and that he could relax, lean on someone to take care of the adult stuff for once. Now he’d lose that adult support as well—

His thoughts were interrupted by a flash of light just as he was about to step into the kitchen. He turned around just in time to see a portal open and Stephen, in his signature blue outfit and red cape stepped out. He was dusting something off of his shirt, so he didn’t notice Tony until he looked up and froze in the middle of the room, his eyes on Tony.

Peter had no idea how Stephen would react to Tony’s…return from the dead, for the lack of a better explanation. An optimistic part of him thought he would be ecstatic, thinking they could finally reverse the snap. The more logical side expected the sorcerer to be shocked and demand an explanation. What he definitely didn’t expect was the utter exasperation that filled the man’s face. He bowed his head and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“ _This_ is why we don’t let people who don’t know shit about infinity stones use them,” he muttered. Peter arched his brows as Tony stood up, looking as shocked as Peter thought Stephen would be.

“Uh, what?” he asked, getting the man’s attention. Stephen sighed and lifted his head, his eyes ice-cold. He kept his eyes on Tony, absentmindedly pushing away his cloak when it tried to tap him on the shoulder to get his attention.

“Well, _Stark,_ let me explain. That little _snap_ of yours—oh yes, I know about it—didn’t only decimate Thanos’s army. It also snapped you into another universe.”

_Another universe…_ Peter’s eyes widened. He stared at Stephen’s slumped shoulders and sunken cheeks. The implication wasn’t lost on him. “You mean…”

“Yes, multiverse is a real thing. And _this_ Tony Stark doesn’t belong in our universe.”


End file.
